


Gaining Honors

by belial



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-16
Updated: 2012-11-21
Packaged: 2017-11-18 19:53:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 48,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/564662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belial/pseuds/belial
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki is rendered mortal thanks to Thor, who leaves him with the Avengers in order to help him change his ways.  But unbeknownst to the sorcerer, a certain Midgardian will help Loki regain his honor through a different method…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue, Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the fandom, characters, etc. I make no profit from this.
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> Notes: Title from Machiavelli’s “The Prince”. This is FrostIron AU. Loki’s POV. Post-Avengers. **Much of the movie plot has been changed to suit the story – done intentionally.**
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> Notes 2: This entire story started by the chemistry between Robert Downey Jr. and Tom Hiddleston during their press checkers… they are so, so hot and they DO NOT stop touching each other! Somehow, it looks like Robert was much more in control of Tom’s reactions, so… [Click Here To See It.](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Koa4m5kyXpE&feature=related)
> 
>  
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> Warnings: D/s themes. Angst. Rimming. Fluff. What a combo, eh? 
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> 
> Dedicated: To Amy, who has laughed, cried, encouraged, and read snippets since I started this beast in August. I owe you so much, baby. This never would’ve been finished without you.

** Prologue **

When I was a child, more than any loathing of my brother, the only thing I feared was silence: the silence of the world around me, the silence of my own mind. There were many times when I’d sneak out of my room in the middle of the night, creeping down corridors, availing myself of shadow, to run into the gardens and listen to the chirp of insects. At those times, I could avoid the dim nothingness that sleep brought. 

It is not the sound of crickets I hear now. It’s the sound of low, rolling murmurs and disappointments and anger. A tangible presence haunts the hall of the All-Father, and it surrounds me as I kneel on the floor. 

I would not kneel of my own free will. 

Thor stands beside me, hurt radiating from him, as he watches Heimdall attach the silver manacles around my wrists to an iron loop. It forces me to prostrate myself at the foot of the throne, where Fath – where Odin will hand me an executioner’s sentence. 

I can lie to everyone else, but it is pointless to lie to myself. My actions warrant my death, and I will meet it gladly. 

“Loki,” Thor starts, but his voice cuts off as I glare at him from behind the muzzle that silences me. I have no need to hear him. His is a silence I could readily endure. 

Heimdall steps back once I am secure, and I tug ineffectively for a moment, as though the chains binding me would suddenly fail and allow me to use my magic once more. The effort is useless; I cease the motion and slump down, still on my knees, head hanging low. 

I feel the shift in the room when the All-Father enters, and I do not look up when he proclaims, “You have brought a great evil upon us, my son.” 

As I have no way to answer, I stay still, do not look at him. He continues with, “Do you not even meet my gaze, Loki? Do you not acknowledge the terrible deeds you’ve committed?” 

I do not move. I can hear those assembled begin their murmurs again, and they stop when Thor barks, “Silence!” 

My breath catches in my chest as the quiet becomes deafening. “Loki, look at me,” Odin says. 

Not until Thor forces my chin up with his fingertips do I look at Odin; I cannot help but notice how tired he looks. “I loved you as my own son, and this is how you repay your family?” 

There are too many words that want to flood out at once. Too many insults, too many injuries. A web of lies that could conceal the betrayal I feel, to contain every emotion. I force my face to remain blank, blink at him instead. He sighs. “If I were only to see some sense of remorse in you, Loki. Even a small sign, a flicker of the boy you once were…” 

He trails off. After a moment, he says, “Tomorrow morning, you will be beheaded at first light, in repayment of the great injustices you have caused here and on Midgard.” 

I think I should feel something, some sadness, some fear. Certainly the crowd around us feels something, feelings that result in cheers and in shouts. It isn’t until I hear Thor’s bass rising above the rest, a booming **“No!”** that I flinch back at the tone of his voice. 

“No!” he shouts again, and his voice cracks as though he were changing from boy to man again. “Father, please, you cannot sentence my brother to die!” 

_What is the great fool doing? He has won!_ I think, and watch in amazement as he moves to stand between Odin and myself. “Father, please,” he begs. “There must be some other way…” 

Odin All-Father stands and points a finger at us both, saying, “Do you see a hint of sorrow on the face of your… of him? My son, flesh of my loins, _look at him and tell me he would ever repent for his misdeeds_!” 

Thor does not turn to look at me, and I cannot blame him. How could he wish to see my face, the Jotun monster that has been thrust upon him from his childhood? The brother he did not want, who he now finds is not related to him at all? 

I am astounded as he says, “I do not need to look at him to know that he could once again regain his honor.” 

The utter sincerity, in which he says this, as though I am worth more than my death, causes me to let the mask slip for just long enough that Odin can see my amazement. But for as quickly as I school my features, I can see the All-Father’s eyes narrow upon me. “Heimdall, remove his gag,” Odin commands, and I twist away to no avail. Humiliating, how easily Heindall grasps me by my hair and unlocks the gag that holds my tongue in my mouth. 

It takes me working my jaw back and forth for me to be able to rasp, “You miss my voice so much, All-Father?” 

“I do not miss your lies,” he snaps back, and I cannot stop the manic grin that stretches across my lips. “I would hear the truth from you, my son.” 

“I am not your son,” I spit back. “And that is the only truth you need to worry about.” 

It is the truth, but it says every lie I need it to: that I do not care about Odin, though I slew my biological father to protect him. It says that I do not feel any love for him, or for my mother, or for my brother – the biggest lie of all. My mother, who sits on the throne next to Odin, clutches a hand to her mouth, and it is all I can do to not run and hide in her skirts the way I did when I was small. The way I did when I was sad, or frightened, or lonely. A small part of me wishes for those days again, when a kiss to the forehead would cure any ill, or when I could remember being loved at all. Before. 

“Loki,” Thor says. Pleads, “Would you not say anything in defense of your actions? In defense of your own life?” 

I do not speak, but nor can I meet my mother’s gaze. Odin huffs out a breath, says, “You would prefer to be executed than to ask for your own life?” 

The silence swells, pressing the air from my lungs. I focus my eyes on the thick iron ring in front of me, biting my lip hard enough to draw blood. Thor says, “Father, send him to Midgard as a mortal, as you did with me. Let that help bring him back from the madness in his mind, I beg of you!” 

“No!” 

The cry escapes me before I can swallow it. I pant heavily, glaring up at Thor’s back. “I would kill them all if you were to send me there, to spite you if nothing else.” 

Odin’s eyebrows climb his face, and he smiles an unpleasant smile. “You would prefer death to Midgard?” 

I do not answer, but can feel my stomach roil in horror as I already know what the All-Father will say next. “You look to escape too easily, Loki. For Thor’s words hold promise; if you were to return to Midgard, you would be forced to regain your honor there.” 

“I will kill every mortal in Midgard if you send me there!” 

“Not if you are stripped of your magic completely.” 

I freeze; surely he can’t mean… “What?” 

Odin stands, orders everyone out of the room with the exception of Heimdall. Thor protests, but it is under Lady Frigga’s watchful eye that he leaves as well. After several moments, it is only the gatekeeper, my false father and I that remain. “Loki, you leave me no choice in the matter,” Odin says. “I would have you executed, but that would suit your purposes best, would it not? For you to no longer exist. Yet for all your intelligence, you do not see how that would cause your mother, your brother and I such pains…” 

“ _You are not my family!_ ” I shout. “You used me as… as a pawn, for your own ends!” 

“And now I will atone for the mistake I made, by taking you from your true world and bringing you to Asgard,” he counters. “But I could no more watch you die as an infant than I could bear to see it now.” 

He approaches me and I yank backwards on the chains that bind me, desperate to get away from him. “I would rather you hate me for all eternity than for me to take your life, my son,” he says. The All-Father frowns. “I never wanted you to know your true origins for this reason.” 

“I was never good enough for you. I tried, I swear I tried, I could have been something great, but it was never enough, I was never enough…!” 

He presses his forehead to mine, wraps his fingers around my bound hands, and the words choke in my throat. The metal cuffs around my wrists tighten, press into the bones and fuse to my skin. I cannot stop the screams as they come, as his mind delves into mine to pluck the knowledge and magic out. I burn and shake and freeze and cry and I realize how futile all of my planning has been; how much more powerful the All-Father is than I am. I never stood a chance. I am a failure in every way. 

And when unconsciousness claims me, I gladly give into it. 

**One**

I go from sleep to wakefulness in a breath; but as I sit up, my entire body protests the movement and I groan. “Where…?” 

“About time you woke up,” an amused voice replies. “Thor mentioned that you might be unconscious awhile, but that was three days ago.” 

I open my eyes, rub at them, and assess the room around me; I do not know where I am until I gaze upon the mortal visage of the Iron Man. “Stark,” I hiss, and make to move from the… bed? I do not understand, so I continue with, “What are you doing here?” 

“Actually, it would be more like, ‘hey, I was the God of Mischief, what am I doing in Stark Towers?’ Because technically, you’re the one out of place.” 

Was the God of Mischief. That means – “I am on Midgard. And mortal.” 

“Ding ding ding! Give the man a prize,” Stark says. He grins, wide and cheerful. It makes me want to annihilate him, and makes my lack of magic all the more painful. “I like you better like this, Loki. Or should I call you Lukas?” 

I flop down onto the bed and stare at the ceiling, wishing for it to cave in and crush me. “Why would you call me Lukas?” I ask. 

He holds up a small piece of plastic, no bigger than the palm of my hand, and I squint to read it. It reads, _State of New York_ and _License_ and _Lukas Lawson_ on it, with… “How did you get a photograph of me?” 

“I have my ways,” he replies. “Welcome to America, Lukas.” 

I groan. “Go away.” 

“Can’t. I’m the welcoming committee.” 

I do not understand the reference, but it doesn’t matter much. He gets up and paces around the room, still talking. “Oh yeah, the welcoming committee, that’s me. Thor brought you to us for ‘safekeeping’, and no one else… well, let’s say I’m the guy crazy enough to think you’d be interesting while you were here.” 

I do not respond, simply tilt my head and study him. He talks more than the Warriors Three and Sif combined. After a few moments of my silence, he stops and gives me a smug grin. “So we’ve got things to do.” 

“Things?” 

He nods. “Food first. You gotta be starving.” 

I hesitate to reply, but my stomach betrays me at the thought of sustenance. Stark laughs. “Yeah, thought so. Come on, out of bed. Steve was kind enough to loan you a pair of his sweats for now.” 

I frown at him and he tugs at the sheet. “Unless you don’t mind going around naked?” 

I feel heat creep into my cheeks and as I shift on the bed, realizing his words are true and I am bare beneath the thin covering. Feigning indifference, I shove the sheet off my skin and swing my legs over the side of the bed. Pushing myself up, I say, “You mentioned garments for me to…?” 

Vertigo strikes me, an unfamiliar malady. My body sways and only thanks to Stark’s quick movement do I not end up on the floor. He wraps his arms around my waist, and I’m shocked by the tight arch of muscle under my fingers as I cling to him. Not as tall as I, but in my weakened state this mortal could be my equal in strength. A horrifying thought, if there ever was one. 

“Are you all right?” 

I cannot bring myself to glare at him, as my head swims from the effort of holding it upright. “I do not know,” I murmur. 

He sighs, and somehow he shifts me back to the bedside so I can sit down. “Put your head between your knees,” he instructs, as he sits next to me. 

I scoff, and then am completely shocked when he cups my chin in his fingers and says, “Trust me.” 

Without understanding why, I bend forward and fold my head between my knees. He rubs my back and urges me to take deep breaths, his mouth close to my ear, nothing more than an intimate purr of noise that surprises and appalls me. 

“You have no sharp words with which to mock me?” I ask, once my vision clears and I can feel my body again. 

“I’m saving them up,” he says. I force myself not to smile as I look up at him. “I’m not used to having naked gods swoon at my feet, you know.” 

“I did _not_ swoon,” I argue, and he laughs. 

“Whatever you need to tell yourself.” 

He is as fast with a retort as I am, and it charms and amuses me. I duck my head, an unfamiliar lightness in my chest that I have no right to feel. “You go too far.” 

He cups my face again, traces along my jawline and into my hair. I startle but his grip doesn’t loosen; gentle fingers rub at the nape of my neck. “What are you…?” 

“You know, you look younger when you smile,” he says, cutting me off. His fingers do not stop moving against my skin and I shiver. “It’s a good look on you.” 

I glance up at him; even in my weakened mortal state, I can easily tell that he is not lying to me. “Why would you care?” 

He pauses. “I think you should get dressed and eat something, and then we can have this conversation.” 

I arch a brow, and he grins. “Oh, my new second favorite expression! Confused and curious.” 

He stands and offers me a hand. “Come on, Loki. Breakfast.” 

I begrudgingly accept his hand, lean on him when my knees buckle. “I will dress myself,” I sneer, when he hands me soft pants and a long-sleeved tunic. “I am not a child.” 

“You’re just weak as a kitten, that’s all.” 

“This kitten still has claws, Stark. These bracelets won’t hold forever.” 

The threat, in my current condition, is pathetic; he knows it, I know it, but for some reason he does not draw attention to it. “Come on,” he says. 

I pad after him, feet bare, moving silently toward a common room and a kitchen. The surrounding areas are empty, devoid of other life. “Are there no others here?” 

“They’re here,” he says. “The other Avengers. And Thor’s here. The room we just came from will be yours for now, and this is where most of us congregate during downtime.” 

“Shall I be expected to stay out of this area, then?” 

Stark halts and I bump into him from behind. Damn this mortal clumsiness! I do not have any of my usual posture to rely on to prevent me from such foolishness. “Loki. The idea of bringing you here was so that you could get used to being around the team. They’ll be around you a lot.” 

“You don’t trust me. That’s good.” 

He has the audacity to roll his eyes at me. “Because you’re just a trustworthy kind of guy. Please. If I thought for a moment that you could easily slip those pretty silver bracelets, I’d be a lot less calm. In the meantime, kitten, you’re stuck with me.” 

“Stop referring to me as a kitten, Stark. I do not need magic to…” 

The rest of my threat dies off as I catch the smell of some sort of food, and my stomach burbles. He snickers and ignores my icy glare. “Right. You can go back to subjecting me to petty insults in a few minutes. Now sit down at the breakfast bar and let’s eat before you fall over.” 

I sit, watch him stalk around the kitchen and assemble some sort of doughy things onto a plate, with meat and fruit. He pushes it in front of me along with a jar of sweet-smelling brown liquid. “Eat.” 

“What are these?” 

“You’ve never seen pancakes?” 

As I shake my head no, he says, “That’s criminal. Steve made these and they’re amazing.” 

He snatches the bottle of brown liquid and pours it over the pancakes, then hands me a fork. “Eat.” 

I take a bite, hesitant at the idea that I could be poisoned. But at the first explosion of sweet, creamy flavor that bursts upon my tongue I moan in sheer delight. Without much of my usual grace and manners, I take another huge bite and swallow it without much chewing. “Hey,” he says, reaching across to catch my arm before I can put more food in my mouth. “Slowly or you’ll make yourself sick.” 

I yank my arm away from him, but he doesn’t let go of my wrist, holds me tightly. As I meet his gaze, he stares me down, and it’s so strange; again I have the feeling that this mortal uses the same sorts of masks I do, to hide his true nature. “Let me go,” I murmur, caught under his gaze. 

“I want your word that you will slow down.” 

His voice is nothing more than a growl, a low pitch that slides across my skin like a caress. I swallow. “My word, freely given,” I reply. 

Instead of letting me go, his grip loosens, and those fingers – those cursed, clever fingers of his, and if that isn’t irony – trace a path up my forearm and into the crease of my elbow. My skin prickles and springs to life under the touch and he smiles. “Good,” he says, and he lets me go. 

I pick up the fork and take a smaller bite, and his smile is warm. “Good,” he says again. “Try the bacon and the strawberries. You’ll like those too.” 

He’s correct in his assessment. Once my plate is empty he offers more, and I nod. I never would’ve thought that being mortal would incite my body to crave more nourishment, but it seems I have much to figure out about my new surroundings. 

Until I can find a way to break the bands that bind me. 

“Full?” 

I nod, and the plate ends up in a large metal vat on the preparation block. “What is that?” 

“The sink?” 

“Yes,” I say, and he tells me it’s for washing the plates. I nod, tilt my head to one side to study it further. 

“Thor said you were curious,” Stark mentions, as I ask him the proper names for the ‘fridge’ and the ‘trash’ and the ‘dishwasher’. I cannot help but frown, and he adds, “That’s never a bad thing, Loki. Maybe you’ll be less inclined to blow shit up if you know what it is.” 

My supposed silver tongue deserts me. I gape at him, but he starts clutching at his sides and cackling. “Oh, if you could see your face!” he says. 

“I hate you,” I snap. “And I hate that Thor, the great oaf, has told you _anything_ of me!” 

“Do you? Do you really?” 

“Yes, curse you!” 

He lunges across the countertop, but I dart away, and as I run to my room as refuge I hear him barreling behind me, chasing me. I cannot believe I’ve been reduced to this; the scared, powerless boy as when I was a child, hiding from Thor and the Warriors Three. I make it into the bedroom, barely get the door open when he’s on me, manhandling me until I’m pinned between his body and the wall. He presses into me, reaches up and cups my face again. “Why do you keep doing that?” I say, but I cannot help twisting into his grasp. “Why do you touch me as though you aren’t afraid of me?” 

“You’re scarier now than when you threw me out the window,” he says, voice rough. He drags his hand into my hair and digs into my scalp. “Because you’re vulnerable now. I could break you. And Jesus fuck, but I _really want to fucking break you, Loki._ I want to rip you apart and see everything that makes you tick, and rebuild you so you _aren’t fucking broken anymore._ ” 

For the first time in my life, I’m speechless. My brain stops; I can’t even draw breath because of how intently he’s staring at me, the words pouring out over the sound of my panting. I blink, and he smiles, a slow stretch of lips that emphasizes how unbearably handsome he is. “Spread your legs,” he murmurs. 

I shudder. “You wish to…” 

He cuts me off by pulling my head down so he can lick into my mouth. I moan and helplessly spread my legs, shift against the wall to get closer to him, because _this_. This is the firm pressure of his body against mine, cradling me, even from the first time we met our sparring was mutual, lusty, and he never feared me enough. 

And as he devours me, my brain floods with the repeat _safe-safe-safe_ like I’d never thought before. I buck my hips into him, plead, “Stark…” 

“Shh,” he soothes, rubbing my scalp and pushing his hips into mine. “Let go for me. Give your body what it needs so desperately.” 

I climax, pleasure whiting out my vision. I’d sink down the wall but he catches me, drags me over to the bed and lets me sprawl out on top of the sheets. He sits next to me, rubbing small circles on my stomach, and waits until I get my breath back. “I think it’s time we had that conversation,” he says, and grins. “Think I handled that all kinds of ass-backwards.” 

“It… would not…surprise me,” I pant, sucking in air and grinning at his scowl. “You aren’t subtle.” 

“Well, it’s nice to know orgasms mean you’re feeling a little more like yourself,” he says, and pokes a finger into my ribs. I squirm and he chuckles. “Let me guess, ticklish?” 

“Just because I do not have my magic right now doesn’t mean I won’t find ways to get even,” I threaten, when he pokes me again. I knock his hand away. “Speak, then.” 

He coughs. “So, um. I guess I wasn’t the only one who noticed all the sexual tension and chemistry we had when you were last here.” 

“No,” I admit, forcing myself to a seated position. Unfortunately, it makes my undergarments and pants stick to me and I make a face. “This feels horrible. How do you humans stand this?” 

“It’s called a shower. Don’t worry, you can take one soon. But we should finish this…” he waves a hand between us. “Discussion.” 

“Why do you hesitate to say discussion when you obviously do not mind discussing this?” I ask. “You’re good at deflection, Stark. You hesitate at the right moments, and wear the right expression, but you do not mind talking to me. Correct?” 

“Aren’t you the God of Chaos and Lies?” he complains, and answers my question with his choice of complaint. “You’re not supposed to tell the truth like that!” 

“I was a God,” I say. “But as you said, I’m not anymore. And besides, in order to lie, you have to tell the truth sometimes, or no one will believe anything you say.” 

He makes a face. But he says, “Fine. I don’t mind the conversation as it stands. But I didn’t mean to hump you into the wall, either.” 

“Hump? I can infer what that’s supposed to mean, but it would be better for you to clarify.” 

“Rub my cock into yours to make you shoot off your pants,” he says, and I cannot stop my stupid cheeks from reddening. “I guess that brings me back to the topic of the discussion, huh?” 

“Which is?” 

“The first thing you need to know is that Thor told us everything,” he says. I attempt to evade the conversation but he’s got his hand on the back of my neck again. “Don’t run from this,” he orders, and I find myself going still. “So, Thor told us everything. That you were supposed to be executed. That you got a second chance, that you’re powerless here. And because S.H.I.E.L.D. wants to keep good relations with Asgard, Fury’s given you permission to stay. That doesn’t mean it’s going to be easy, because not everyone wants you here.” 

“Consider me surprised,” I snap. “I’m not wanted anywhere.” 

I am offended that I cannot keep the bitterness out of my voice. And I am shocked when he says, “ _I_ want you here.” 

“But, _why_?” 

“For exactly the reason I said. To take you apart and see what’s inside of you.” 

“I am broken beyond your repair, mortal,” I say. “You think you know me? You think you can, what…? Fix me?” 

“I think I know you better than you’d like. I think you’ve got a long, huge grudge against Odin for being a shitty father and not telling you that you were adopted. I think you’re mad at Thor because he’s a fucking boy scout and the apple of everyone’s eye and it made it even harder for you to ever feel validated. I think that you’re family’s completely fucked up to pit you and Thor against each other, but you want to know something?” 

He continues on with, “I think the best way for you to get even with all of them is to _stop buying into their bullshit, and prove them wrong about you._ The entirety of Asgard expects you to fail, right? Well, fuck them, Loki. Don’t fail this time.” 

“How am I supposed to do that?” I say, and jump up from the bed. Pacing back and forth, I say, “How do I stop… how did you put it? Fucking up? I know nothing about being mortal, I know nothing about interacting with… with you, or with others, I know enough about people to know how to best manipulate them to get what I want, but to actually succeed with them?” 

“I’ll help you,” he replies. 

I stop pacing, stare at him. “Why would you want to?” 

“Because a lot of really horrible shit happened to me, and I met someone who, for a while, helped me learn how to deal with the mess in my head. And how to keep faking it, to everyone else, that I didn’t care.” 

I resume my seat on the bed, watch his face. “Tell me?” 

He talks, quietly, of his father, and a man named Obadiah Stane, and of his time in captivity. When I inquire about the machine in his chest, he tells me what it is and what it does. The Arc Reactor that keeps him alive. 

“When I was a child, I thought it was books that would keep me alive,” I say. 

“Books?” 

“Spellbooks,” I explain. “Because I knew I’d never be as big or as powerful as Thor, so I decided that I could be smarter than everyone, and use that knowledge to keep me safe. Except, the All-Father took the knowledge from me, and now…” 

“How long has it been since you really felt safe, though? It was long before Odin took your magic.” 

“It was when I found out that I am a monster,” I say, and curl my knees to my chest. “A Jotun. A creature so horrible that it is the enemy of Asgard, of everything that is good and right in our world. When I found out, I lost every trace of myself.” 

“Broken,” he says, and puts a firm hand on my arm. “But not beyond repair.” 

“How do you suggest you can repair me?” 

“When I was at my lowest point, I met a man who showed me a way to let go, to put myself in someone else’s hands, and release all of the tension and stress in my body. He… he saved my life. Pepper, Rhodey, they saved me physically, but if it hadn’t been for him I would’ve gone nuts.” 

“So you wear the mask of someone who doesn’t care to protect yourself.” 

“Just like you do,” he counters. “And I date women as possessions so no one gets close to me, so I don’t have to care about them. But there _are_ people I care about, Loki. Just like there are people you care about, despite you not wanting to admit it.” 

I look away, but I cannot deny his claim. “How did this man save you?” 

“He got into my head and got me out of my head.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

“I could teach you,” he says. The hand on my arm slides up to my shoulder and squeezes. “If you want.” 

I look at his hand, amazed that I keep allowing him to touch me, to be so familiar with me. It isn’t so much that I don’t want Stark touching me, but I do not like _anyone_ to put their hands upon me. So why is this mortal exempt from all of the self-imposed rules I’ve created? Am I that far removed from myself, with these cursed bracelets on my wrists, that I would enjoy such liberties? 

“Loki?” 

“I don’t like people touching me,” I blurt. When he starts to pull away, I lean into the touch, and add, “But it’s all right, when you do it.” 

He doesn’t respond and doesn’t pull back any further. The hand on my shoulder digs in suddenly, and I gasp, but I make no move to pull away. “Stark?” 

“Tony,” he growls, and he pulls me closer to him. “No more of this ‘Stark’ business, do you understand me?” 

I nod and he tugs me forward, his mouth sealing over mine. I gasp again and he deepens the kiss, angling his body over mine and gently pressing me down into the bedding. I open my eyes – when had I closed them? – and am shocked to see that his eyes are open, watching my face. He releases my mouth. “Close your eyes,” he… he _orders_ , and I start to argue but his grip tightens on my arm and his other hand clutches at my hip. “Do as I say.” 

And Stark… _Tony_ , he must possess magic of his own, some sort of Midgardian magic, because the power in his voice is something I cannot fight against. I close my eyes, shiver when he murmurs, “So good” against my lips, and starts kissing me again. 

I sprawl beneath him, enjoying the way his body presses down upon me, solid and secure. I find myself making noises as he explores; a whimper when he bites at my lower lip, a groan when he licks the skin at the hollow of my throat. A cry when he reaches between my legs to fondle my sex, which – without my notice – is hard again. “Oh,” I say, but I cannot tell if I am asking for more or asking him to stop. This is nothing like what happened the first time I had sex, and I find I enjoy the way he takes charge of me with such gentleness. “I don’t…” 

“Just feel good,” he says, cutting me off. “Hush, just learn the sensations of being human, all right?” 

I do not open my eyes until I feel his hot breath on my stomach, and then I cannot help but look at him. He’s grinning, licking my abdomen and up until he takes a nipple into his mouth. I cry out, shocked, and between the sensation of his tongue and the hand at my sex I have no hope at evading the sweep of pleasure through my spine. I lose myself in his touch, gasping, panting, and spend for the second time. 

He kisses me once I’ve caught my breath. “You’re gorgeous,” he says. “And I want to do that to you all the time.” 

“I think… I think I’d let you,” I reply, and then cover my face with my arm, embarrassed. “Why did you want me to keep my eyes closed?” 

“Because you can’t learn what your body likes when your brain is so busy trying to analyze everything happening to you,” he says. “That’s what I was talking about – learning to shut down and get out of your head. To stop thinking so hard and just let go.” 

“And this is purely a sexual process?” 

He laughs, bright and happy. “No. It’s not. But it seems I can’t keep my hands off of you. And since you’re not fighting me…” 

“Oh.” 

He leans over and kisses me and I do nothing to discourage it. When he pulls back, he licks his lips and says, “JARVIS?” 

_“Yes sir?”_

I jump, but Tony covers my hand with his. “JARVIS, get Everett Mitchell on the phone please, tell him I’m in need of his services as soon as possible. If he’s busy, tell him to drop what he’s doing. Also… tell him emerald green, black, and silver. Both every day and formal.” 

_“Yes sir. I’ll ask him to clear his schedule if necessary.”_

“Great.” 

“Who is that you’re talking to?” I ask, glancing around. 

“That’s JARVIS, my AI. Artificial intelligence. He’s sort of my partner and teammate and the guy who runs the house. JARVIS, say hello to Loki Laufeyson, also known as Lukas Lawson. He’ll be going by the Lawson identity for now.” 

_”A pleasure, Mr. Lawson.”_

I give a slight nod to the ceiling. “A pleasure to meet you as well, JARVIS.” 

After a moment of awkward staring, I ask, “Emerald green and black and silver?” 

He grins. “You’ll find out when you meet Everett. In the meantime, I should find you something clean for you to wear so you can shower, and then we can go find Thor.” 

I make a pained noise and he clicks his tongue at me. “None of that,” he warns. “Thor’s been nothing but good to you, to wait while you were recuperating instead of him charging in to talk to you as soon as you woke up.” 

“And what caused that miracle?” I snipe. 

“I did.” 

I must be losing my senses completely; I stare unabashed and he starts laughing. “God, you’re gorgeous,” he says, and strokes my hair. “And confusion might just be my new favorite look on you. Yes, I told your brother to give you space, and he agreed to wait instead of taking his usual approach to things. I thought it would be less overwhelming for you to wake up without him hovering over you.” 

“Why do you keep doing nice things for me?” I grumble. “How am I supposed to hate you?” 

“You’re not supposed to hate me. Now come on – shower.” 

I follow him to a smaller room and he shows me how to adjust knobs and nozzles until a stream of steaming water jets out of the ceiling and walls around me. “So now you take off your clothes and get in,” he says. He smiles and points at soap and a hair cleaner. “I’ll be in the living room waiting when you’re done. It’s the room just outside the kitchen. There’ll be clean clothes on the bed for you.” 

I nod and thank him and he leaves; I quickly strip out of my clothes and step under the spray, allowing the water to wash away the stickiness of my semen and sweat. 

Unfortunately, when I step out of the shower and dry myself on a towel, I get a glimpse of my hair in the mirror. “Hel,” I say, grimacing at the curl in my hair. My fingers make a poor substitute for a comb and I open Tony’s bathroom cabinet, hoping to find anything for such a problem. 

But the cabinet holds so many jars and bottles that I have no hope of reading through them before someone comes looking for me. Discouraged, I drag myself into Tony’s sitting room and pull on the new pants and shirt. 

And then it hits me. “JARVIS?” 

_”Yes, Mr. Lawson?”_

“Is… is there anything in Tony’s bathroom I can use to tame this?” I ask, pointing to my head. For a moment, I feel like a complete fool, but I’ve gone too far now to turn back. “I can’t just magic it down.” 

The computer pauses. _”I believe you will find a small black jar of AXE Messy Look paste in there, Mr. Lawson. That is what Mr. Stark uses.”_

Of course he does. “Thank you, JARVIS.” 

_”My pleasure, sir.”_

I find the jar as directed, read the label, and smooth some of it through my hair. It works, and I no longer look as ridiculous as I had moments before. Sighing, I walk out of the room and head toward the main room, where Tony and Thor await me. 

Somehow, I feel like I’m walking toward my execution. Again.


	2. Chapter 2

** Two **

I hear them talking before I see them; they sit closely together, murmuring back and forth. Thor’s voice, for one, is muted, and as I come into view, his tone doesn’t change. “Loki,” he says. 

“Thor.” 

He stands and I take a step backwards; too soon, to receive his attentions. “I am not your brother to manhandle, my lord,” I say, dipping my head to him. “It would not be proper for…” 

“Do not _dare_ insult me with a title,” he snaps, and I blink in surprise. “You are my brother and we are Aesir, no matter what blood flows in your veins.” 

I cannot handle his vehement support. Not now. Not again, after stepping in to defend me from the All-Father’s sentence. “I do not understand your unwavering loyalty,” I say, throwing up my hands. “You stupid ox, you should be rejoicing that I am not related to you and banish me from your thoughts, not standing to rescue me over and over!” 

“I cannot find happiness in your despair, _lillebror_ ,” he murmurs, and I cringe back from the endearment. “I… I do not have your way with words, but know this: though I may not always understand you or what you do, I will never cut you from my heart. Did you not grow up side-by-side with me?” 

“No,” I say, bitterly. “I grew up behind you, in your shadow.” 

He recoils and I clench my hands into fists. Only then do I realize how hard I’m trembling and I take another step back, ready to flee. 

“Hey,” Tony’s voice breaks in, and in my anger I’d almost forgotten his presence. “Thor, why don’t you take a seat in that chair over there? Loki, come here.” 

I glare at him. “Who do you think you are to order me around, mortal?” I snap. 

He doesn’t allow my words to faze him; he simply rises, takes me by the wrist, and tugs until I am forced to either move to him or dig in my heels. “Sit,” he says softly. “You’re shaking so hard, I think you’ll break if you keep at it.” 

I perch on the edge of the furniture as far from him as possible, but the effort is in vain; he grabs a blanket from a nearby chair and wraps it around my shoulders. “Come here,” he says, and he pulls me back against his chest, wrapping his arms around me. I realize I’m between his legs, resting against him, and even though my rational mind knows this is a trap or a trick or unacceptable, the part of me that’s been craving his touch pushes all of my concerns aside. I slump back into him and he holds me more tightly. “That’s it, relax. Thor, remember what I said to you about pushing?” 

Thor nods and I blink at him. “Tony Stark is correct. I did not realize how different it must be for you in this new form. I mean you no harm. And I do not wish to argue with you, either.” 

“I’m human, Thor. I’m not stupid,” I say. “Say what you’ve come to say, then. I suppose there is more to this punishment that I don’t yet know about?” 

“I am sorry you feel this is punishment. I am hoping that with time, you can…” 

“Thor,” Tony interrupts. “Tell him what he needs to know.” 

The surrealism of the moment boggles me; how is it this mortal, this Avenger, this human in a tin suit manages to invade my senses and even bring Thor into line? “What am I supposed to know?” 

“I must remain away from Midgard while you learn this lesson. I will return to Asgard once we finish this conversation, and will have no choice but to leave you here on your own. My friends here have volunteered for you to live with them in my absence, and Tony Stark has made a home for you in this building. You know that the bracelets hinder your magic, but you mustn’t try tampering with them, or you will be recalled to Asgard for punishment. You mustn’t harm any of the mortals in this realm, or…” 

“I get it. Back to Asgard in chains, correct?” 

He sets his jaw. “Father does not want you to force his hand, to make him choose more drastic consequences…” 

“He was willing to behead me,” I snap, and wince as Tony’s fingers dig into my skin. Ignoring the man’s reaction, I say, “It would’ve been a far wiser thing for him to do, instead of sending me here in this… this _farce_. As though I am anything truly worth redeeming. As if I am not mad or dangerous!” 

“Loki…” 

“No!” I shout. “You know I am a monster, and yet...” 

This time, when Tony curls his fingertips into my flesh, I have no choice but to cut off with a gasp. Instead of light pressure, he pushes down, nails digging into my skin despite the thin tunic I wear. “Enough,” he growls in my ear. “You’ll cut that shit out right now, do you hear me?” 

“Why?” I say. “Why should I? Is it not true? Is it not what everyone expects? You think you can change me, human, but I have lived far too long to think that I am capable of changing… becoming more than the trickster, the liar, the _lillebror_ as Thor so charmingly says. The little brother, the unimportant one! I could not even make the All-Father love me by destroying Jotunheim, for destroying my own kind to prove that I could be a good son, a _worthy_ son…” 

A thump in my lap, and I look to see Thor kneeling in front of me, pushing a book toward me. “No,” I say, because I recognize it at once. “T…take that away. I don’t want it.” 

“Mother bade me bring it to you. She said you’d know what it means.” 

“I don’t want it!” 

He sits it on the cushion next to me, bends down and presses a kiss to the top of my head. “But you must take it, Brother,” he replies. “And I promise, I promise that no matter what happens, I will still love you. Be well, until we next meet.” 

He strides toward a table on the far side of the room where I see the Tesseract; it takes him mere moments before he vanishes from my sight. I am left alone in the room, Tony still holding my arms. A strange numbness creeps over my skin, the likes of which steal my breath from my lungs and cause the room to blur around me. 

“Loki?” 

I twist in his grasp, extract myself from his side and snatch the book from where it lays. “I need to go,” I say. “Don’t, I can’t… don’t. Somewhere quiet?” 

I know I’m not making any sense. When I finally look at him, his face changes from frustration to concern. “I need someplace quiet,” I say, trying to hold myself together. “I… Tony, _please_ …” 

Never have I felt the way I feel now; lost, frightened, confused as I am. It is as though all of the things that made me Loki no longer exist, smothered in a thick skin of humanity and… “You shouldn’t be alone right now,” the mortal says, and I cover my mouth with one hand to choke down my hysterical laughter. “Loki, what is it about that book?” 

_My little Lo-lo, what ails you?_

“I can’t stop feeling everything,” I mumble against my hand. “Can’t deal with this… it’s like I’ve been swallowed up. Not me anymore.” 

He stands, holds a hand out to me. “That’s called being human, Loki. We don’t get to know the infinite knowledge of the universe; hell, supposedly we only use about ten percent of our brains. Everything you knew about magic, the Nine Realms? It’s all still there, but it’s buried away from you. And instead, you’re left with human feelings.” 

“I hate it!” 

Tony grins. “So do I. Why do you think we get along so well?” 

And just like that – despite my overwhelming desire to panic – I’m on the verge of giggles. “We don’t get along,” I say, but I cannot help the hysterical laughter bubbling out of me. “We don’t…” 

He hasn’t moved and I take his hand, let him pull me back to the couch. “I don’t like feeling like this,” I say, snuggling closer to his chest as he wraps his arms around me. “I don’t like having all these stupid feelings.” 

“You’re just going to have to learn to control them. It takes time.” 

“I guess I have a lot of time, now. To be here. To learn.” 

He kisses my forehead, holds me closer. “Tell me about the book. Why does it freak you out? And don’t even think about lying to me.” 

I pause, but he waits, patiently, until I start speaking. “When I was young, I felt that only Lady Frigga – my mother – understood me. I was young, so young, and had fallen from a spruce in the courtyard. I broke my arm, and it was hours I sat there before she found me. I was – I was ashamed, that I’d been bested by a tree, that even the trees were more formidable than I. She asked me why I hadn’t gone to anyone to be healed, and I couldn’t explain to her why it shamed me so much. Thor had never broken any parts of himself and he and the Warriors Three did so many more dangerous things…” 

“You felt weak,” the mortal says, and I stiffen in surprise. “Because you didn’t get that it was okay to need your Mom.” 

“Weakness is not tolerated in Asgard. I could never have Thor’s physical prowess, so I determined to use magic, instead.” 

“Brains over brawn. That works, a lot of times,” he responds. “But, the book?” 

I hand it to him, let him open it. He treats it gently, thumbing through the pages until he stops at a sketch of the spruce, with a few birds lingering in its branches. “You did these?” he asks, touching the drawing with a single finger. 

“Yes,” I reply. “If you look in the inside cover, you’ll understand why I do not wish to remember…” 

He turns to the space indicated, reads my mother’s scrawled hand: _My Lo-lo, your strength is that you can create great and powerful magics – whether art or otherwise. Always remember your innocence. ~Mother_

He closes the book, trails his fingers over the cover. “That’s a hell of a thing.” 

“Lady Frigga has the ability to foresee the future,” I explain. “I think she knew what I would become, and this book was her attempt to shape me into something different.” 

“You’ve thought about it before?” 

“I’ve thought about a lot of things. More than a human mind could recall, in any case. I did not survive falling through the Nine Realms without using my brain.” 

“So even your evil plans have evil plans?” 

A smile springs to my face unbidden. “Something like that.” 

He places the book onto a cushion next to him and gives me his full attention again, which reminds me… “Why do you hold me this way?” 

“You don’t like it?” 

I don’t reply and he chuckles. “Maybe you like it too much…?” he suggests. 

“Maybe.” 

He cups a hand around the back of my neck and rubs the skin behind my ear. “What about now? Is this better?” 

“Hmm.” 

“I should’ve known you needed to be touched,” he says, mumbling into my hair. I further recline onto him so I can rest my head into the crook of his neck. “You’re like a cat, wanting to be stroked.” 

“Is this another kitten reference?” 

“No. But I don’t see people reaching out to touch you because they’d be afraid of your claws.” 

“I told you I don’t like to be touched.” 

“Except by me.” 

Oh, and how smug he sounds! I pinch his side and he yelps. “See what I mean? Claws!” 

“That’s not the worst I could do,” I say, though at the moment – it probably is. “I could be sitting here plotting your demise, you know.” 

“I’m terrified… _Lo-lo_ ,” he says, and when I turn to glare at him he smirks. “You didn’t honestly think I’d let that go, did you?” 

“Still hating you, Stark.” 

Any further comments are cut off by JARVIS’ voice. _”The other Avengers are in the lobby, sir. And Mr. Mitchell is on his way here. I made your suggestions and also gave him estimates of Mr. Lawson’s measurements based on comparative indicators for the rest of the team.”_

“This is why I keep you around, JARVIS,” Tony says. He kisses the top of my head. “So, you’ve got a couple options. You can stay here and wait for the rest of the team to come up, or you can hang out in your bedroom and wait for Ev to get here. I don’t think you’re ready to meet the team, right?” 

“Right,” I agree. I’m not looking forward to meeting them at all, let alone after a rather uncomfortable bout of honesty in the wake of Thor’s departure. “A worthy victor knows when to abandon the battlefield.” 

He grins. “Thought so. That means you have to get up, though. God or not, you’re lying on top of me. And I would prefer not to move you.” 

I extract myself from his grasp and rise to my feet, making sure to take the book from where it sits. “I take it you aren’t coming with me?” 

“I’m going to stay out here for a bit and talk with my teammates,” he says. “Because this is the first time you’ve been awake with the rest of them in the house, and it’s better if I warn them before you bump into someone in one of the common rooms.” 

“Afraid I’ll kill someone?” 

“All I’m gonna say to that is: Super-soldier, Hulk, trained assassins. I think for now they’d be able to take you. Hell, I could take you.” 

For some reason, the thought of him taking me in a fight causes a shiver of excitement to crawl up my spine. He sees it and one half of his mouth curves up in a smile. “I take it you like that idea?” 

I nod, feeling my cheeks flush. “Yes.” 

_”The elevator is almost to your floor, sir.”_

He lunges to his feet and digs his fingers into my hair, pulling me down for a hot, open-mouthed kiss. It ends too soon; I hear a faint ‘ding’ from down the hallway and he’s pushing me toward my room, in the opposite direction. “Go,” he commands, and I hurry out of the room as other voices come into earshot. 

I slump down as I get into my room, sit on the floor with the door closed and take deep breaths. I can hear the voices of the other Avengers raise as Tony tells them I’m conscious; the most furious comes from the little archer whose mind I possessed. Wave after wave of anger rolls down the hall, and these humans have no idea of what I’m capable of, all of them ready to write me off as a lost cause and they should, they should, they absolutely should… 

Except I hear one voice that rises above the rest, praising my talents and calling me human. Reminding them of a promise to Thor, to Asgard. Defending me when he has no reason to believe in me, but what had he said? _The entirety of Asgard expects you to fail, right? Well, fuck them, Loki. Don’t fail this time._

I don’t move when footsteps sound outside my door; a succession of three knocks, and I say, “Come in” without a second thought. 

It isn’t Tony who pokes his head in. “Hi,” a dark-haired human says, quietly. “Tony asked me to come get you to join us in the main room. I’m Bruce. Bruce Banner.” 

The name sounds familiar and it strikes me: “You are the large, green creature?” 

He nods, gaze sharpening as he adds, “I’m also Tony’s best friend, so if you’re thinking about hurting him…” 

I laugh and rub a hand across my face at the sheer absurdity of the idea. “I don’t believe I’m in any position to hurt Tony Stark at this time, Dr. Banner.” 

“It’s Bruce,” he corrects. “Look, I don’t trust you, but for some crazy reason I _do_ trust Tony, and he seems to think you’re worthy of a second chance. So come to the main room, please, and let’s… discuss some things that need discussing. Shall we?” 

I pull myself to my feet and follow him down the main hallway to where the rest of the Avengers gather. “This is a ridiculous fucking waste of time,” Tony spits, and when Bruce clears his throat he stops. “Hey, Loki,” he adds, voice much more gentle. 

I dip my head in acknowledgement, and when he gestures to an open seat away from the others I claim it. Tony, meanwhile, paces back and forth. “Look, I don’t see what’s left to discuss right at this immediate moment, since he just woke up and has already dealt with Thor, and…” 

“Easy, Tony,” Bruce says. “No one’s here to start a fight.” 

“The fuck we’re not. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, Stark, you should’ve just thrown his ass out a window in retaliation and told Thor that there was no way in hell we’d babysit his sick, psychotic fuck of a little brother.” 

“Clint,” comes the woman’s soft growl, and oh. Oh, there are too many people talking at once. I draw my knees to my chest and curl further into the chair to escape the noise. Not that it does me any good; even in mortal form, I’m too tall to slip under the notice of the others. 

“No magic, huh? Guess what, asshole, I can still see you.” 

“Barton!” 

The arguing continues until someone lets out a shrill whistle, the sound of which could force dogs to go silent. “That’s enough!” 

I peer around Tony, who has somehow managed to position himself between me and the rest of the room. The speaker’s familiar to me for several reasons: first and foremost, as a worthy adversary, one who did not lose his honor in our battle. “Agent Coulson,” I say, in lieu of greeting. 

His face remains curiously neutral. “Loki.” 

He bestows a stern look on the rest of the participants in the conversation. “I believe it was decided that Loki would remain here for the greater good of relations between Asgard and Earth,” he says, calmly. “You all remember that debriefing, correct?” 

“Sir…” 

Coulson raises a single finger and the archer falls silent. “I think if I can maintain a sense of objectivity about this assignment, the rest of you can as well.” 

With that he steps forward, neatly evading Tony and moving in front of me. “Mr. Lawson,” he says, holding out his hand in a traditional Midgardian offering. “Agent Phillip Coulson.” 

Honorable, and my opinion of him rises though I do not understand where it comes from. Slowly, so not to spook the rest of the room, I unfold from the chair and stand up. I accept his handshake, quietly reply with, “Lukas Lawson. The pleasure is mine.” 

His expression does not change, but nor does his grip crush mine. We release each other’s hand at the same time. “Settled,” he says, and turns to face the group. “Barton, with me, please? The rest of you…” 

_”Sir, Mr. Mitchell is here,”_ JARVIS interrupts. _”Shall I have him sent to a specific room, or would you like to meet him in the lobby?”_

“Third floor conference room,” Tony growls. He reaches out a hand and wraps it around my wrist. “We’re out of here. The rest of you can fuck off for now.” 

“Tony!” Bruce exclaims. 

I don’t get a chance to hear Bruce’s chastisement. Tony half-drags me to the elevator, shoves me inside as soon as the doors open. “We already fucking talked about this!” he snaps, pacing back and forth in the elevator. “Fucking Barton, wants to stir the shit as soon as possible, doesn’t even listen or…” 

“He has every right to be angry,” I say, and jump when Tony’s fist lands on the wall inches from my face. 

“Everyone deserves a fucking second chance! Even you, goddamn it, and he knows how I feel about this whole situation!” 

I freeze, wide-eyed at the unusual display of temper. Every previous encounter with this man led me to believe his devil-may-care attitude smoothed the veneer over all of his emotions. “Why are you so invested in my supposed rehabilitation?” 

He slumps into my side, saying, “Because if the Merchant of Death can find some sort of peace with himself and become a consultant to the fucking ‘good guys’, then there’s no reason the God of Tricks and Mischief can’t do the same.” 

“I’m not one of the good guys, Tony. I never will be.” 

“But you’re still going to be mine,” he snarls, and pulls me forward to crush my mouth with his. “Mine, while you’re here.” 

I moan, reach up to grasp his arms as he possessively lays claim to me. Which is, of course, when the elevator doors open with a chime. 


	3. Chapter 3

** Three **

He releases me and I cannot control the way my chest heaves from his kisses. “What…” I ask, but he shakes his head. “Tony…” 

“I don’t want you to be one of the good guys,” he growls, and kisses me again. “I just want you. Fuck, Loki, you’re under my skin and fucking with my head and I intend to _keep you as mine_. I can’t explain it, this possessiveness I feel about you…” 

“Then don’t,” I say. He tips his head to the side and it’s my turn to shake my head. “Don’t explain it. I… I don’t know why, but I want to be yours. I want this as much as you do.” 

The elevator dings again, and JARVIS’ voice cuts in with a smooth, _Sirs…_

“Tell Everett we’re coming,” Tony commands. He takes my hand in his and leads me from the elevator. “We’re right down the hall from him.” 

“Who is this human?” I ask. I discreetly adjust myself in my pants as he drags me along. 

“He’s a tailor,” Tony replies. We stop just outside a door and he takes a deep breath. “You can’t walk around in sweatpants for the rest of your stay here. So I, uh. Ev’s going to make sure you have the right attire.” 

“Oh.” I nod, because I have been fitted for leathers before. “This is not unusual to me.” 

He arches an eyebrow, and I say, “I was a royal prince. Before I could magic my clothes to me, I was dressed by a clothier.” 

“Huh. Whaddya know,” he says. Pushing the door open, he says, “Come on.” 

I follow him into the room and blink at the dark-skinned man in front of me. “How are you, Ev?” Tony asks. “World treating you right?” 

“It was going fine, until JARVIS called me to tell me you had a fashion emergency and that I should drop everything. Honestly, Tony, you should…”

Everett Mitchell is a small man with a wide smile and flamboyant gestures. He also talks at the same rate of speed Stark does. Or he did, until his gaze falls upon me. “Well hello, sugar,” he purrs, and I can’t help but look over my shoulder to think he’s talking to someone else. “Oh, sugar, where have they been hiding you?” 

“That’s enough, Ev,” Tony says, and laughs. “This is Lukas Lawson, and he’s working for me at present. He needs wardrobe assistance, which is why I called your brilliance.” 

Ev beams a smile back at Stark. “New employee, hmm? Oh, aren’t you a pretty thing I get to put my hands on…” 

It strikes me finally that he means, “Me?” I ask, and take two steps backwards. “I beg your pardon, but…” 

“OOO, that accent. Tony, you bastard, you finally slept with everything on this continent and now you’ve moved across the pond, hmm?” 

“Shut up, Ev.” 

But Tony blushes and I cannot help the grin that spreads across my face. “No, Ev, go on – please. Tell me how I’m just another conquest?” 

“You’re hardly a conquest, Lo…Luke. Yet.” The dark undertones in Tony’s voice slither up my spine like a caress. I suddenly wish for my leathers, to hide how aroused I become. 

“Not fair, Stark,” I pout, giving him my most beguiling look. Because this is a game I can play, now that the die’s been cast. He already admitted to wanting me… and I admitted to wanting him… and the way he looks at me leaves no doubts… 

Everett clears his throat. “He’s not an employee, right? Because you two are a sexual harassment case waiting to happen. So if you’d please stop eyefucking each other, it’s almost seven pm and I’d really like to get Lukas here undressed and fitted.” 

I blink. “Undressed?” 

“Sure, sugar. Your underwear stays on and everything else comes off, so I can see what to put you in.” 

“I’m not undressing for you.” 

“Yes, you are,” Tony cuts in. “Ev, keep in mind that Lukas hates being touched, so nothing handsy. Besides, I don’t think I’ll like that too much. Just… make him look better than sweats.” 

Ev chuckles. “Wow. Okay, off with the clothes and Uncle Everett will make this as painless as possible.” 

I glance at Tony, who nods; quickly I strip down to the borrowed undergarments. Everett walks around me in a slow circle, examining me, and I fight the urge to squirm. “You are a pretty thing, aren’t you? I see what you mean about the colors, Tony… hmm… okay, let’s begin.” 

There’s a flurry of items tossed at me from piles around the room; I slip into something called jeans, pulling on and off several pairs before the two humans in front of me claim a success. Tunics, trousers, shoes, socks, briefs (Tony feels the need to ogle these most of all), ties, scarves, belts… I find myself out of breath after a significant time passes, and yet no closer to having anything to wear. “Oh, my God,” Ev complains, sinking into a chair. “Everything looks amazing on him. We’ll go for some skinny jeans too, don’t you think?” 

I have no idea what skinny jeans are, but the noise Tony makes catches my attention. I look at him and he winks at me, making me blush. So does Everett’s laughter. “You two,” the dark-skinned man says. “Lovebirds. Lukas, you must be something pretty special for the great Tony Stark to look at you like that. It’s not every boy he buys a new wardrobe for.” 

“Ev,” Tony says, scowling. “Not something you needed to share.” 

Everett waves a hand at him. “No, seriously, Tony. Who’s the last person you did this for? One of your Avengers teammates?” 

“If you keep talking, I’m going to be forced to have you killed and hide your body.” 

The tailor looks less than impressed by the threat. “I’ll help?” I ask, and Tony snorts at that. 

“I think I can take Everett. But, he’s right… you _do_ look good in clothes.” 

“Thank you.” 

“And you look better out of them,” he adds. I flush again and give him a scowl of my own. 

He chuckles and looks at a small timepiece on his wrist; my own wrists ache from the bracelets that bind me. “It’s almost eleven,” he says. “Luke, you must be starving.” 

I shrug. “I’m all right.” 

He shakes his head in disgust. “Some host. Everett, would you like me to call in for dinner?” 

“No, I should be going, before Rafael goes bananas. I texted him a while ago, but still. You’ll make it up to me when you see my bill and Luke’s clothes.” 

Tony clasps the other man in a brief embrace and I find myself oddly annoyed by the familiarity of the gesture. That is until Ev walks up to me and says, “I’m a hugger. Get over here.” 

“Ev…” 

But Ev pays no attention to Tony’s warning; he wraps skinny arms around me and I freeze, doing everything possible to squirm away from the contact. “Wow, you really _do_ hate being touched.” 

“Yes, I do,” I say, and pull away from him. 

“Sorry, sugar. I promise that when I have clothes delivered here over the next few days, you’ll hate me a little less.” 

I glance at Tony, who flaps his hands at me in some sad attempt at communication. Fortunately, I was raised as a king’s son. So I offer Everett a small bow and in my most polite tones, I say, “I am honored to don your creations. I do not doubt they will be of the highest quality and style.” 

Everett goes mute on me for a moment, then says, “Jesus, that accent. You’re a danger to my heart, Lukas Lawson.” 

“You’ve no idea,” I drawl. 

“Right, that’s it. Everett, go home to that husband of yours and leave my… my Lukas alone. That’s enough sweet talking and eye-batting from you both.” 

“Jea-lous,” Ev lilts at him, and Tony escorts him to the door. “Good bye, sugar! Don’t be a stranger!” 

Tony slams the door shut and I glance around the room. “He’ll be back to collect his things, will he not?” 

“JARVIS, get someone to come in here and pack up Everett’s samples, and help Everett get out of my house.” 

_”Certainly, sir.”_

“Meanwhile, you,” he growls. “You with the skinny jeans and the hugging and the flirting and teasing…” 

“Me?” 

He stalks toward me, a predator, and I move away from him until I’m up against a wall. “You’ve caught me, Mr. Stark,” I say, and look up at him from under my eyelashes. “Now what do you intend to do with me?” 

He groans, digs his fingers into my hair and cups the back of my neck at the same time. “Jesus, what I want to do with you is illegal in several states.” 

“You realize that means nothing to me?” 

He grins. “I think it’s time I gave you a private tour of my bedroom, now that Everett’s no longer needed.” 

Sheer, aching arousal blooms in my belly and I can’t help my sharp intake of breath. “I’d like that,” I admit. “A lot.” 

He tugs me forward and presses his mouth to mine, licking my bottom lip until I open my mouth for him. He tastes like mint and something uniquely Tony; I haven’t the ability to discern what it is, but I find that I like it. “You taste so good,” I say, and moan as he sucks at the skin of my neck. “Oh please, Tony, please…” 

“Fuck,” he says, and steps away from me. “Fuck, okay, let’s head up to my room or I swear to God I’m going to screw you on the table, and I don’t have lube or condoms in my pockets.” 

“I have no idea what those things are?” 

His mouth hangs open for a moment, until he asks, “Contraceptives and a gel to make penetration easier?” 

Oh. He wants to be inside of me and I can’t help the shudder that passes through me. “I… no. That won’t work, it’s not…” 

“Have you only ever been on top?” he asks. “The one who does the fucking, not the one who takes it?” 

I sink into his embrace, his words painting explicit pictures in my mind. Ducking my head down so I don’t have to look at him, I quietly say, “I’ve been penetrated before. It was not to my liking.” 

But curse him and his genius; he forces me to look at him with gentle touches and soft kisses. “Look at me,” he says. “Loki, did someone hurt you?” 

It doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter. It was so long ago, and yet I still feel Fandral’s breath in my ear and hands on my hips. “It was not pleasant. I was too young and knew too little in the ways of intimacy.” 

He kisses me. “Do you trust me enough to want to try again? Would you at least let me touch you?” 

“I let you touch me at every opportunity,” I protest… and the half-truth easily slides off of my tongue. It’s nice to know humanity doesn’t mean I completely lost the ability to deceive. “I do not protest your touches.” 

He sighs. “You know what I mean, smart mouth. Would you be willing to try sex again? Penetrative sex.” 

“Would you let me take you that way?” 

“Of course,” he replies, arching an eyebrow at me. “But then, you don’t really know how, do you? As a human?” 

“Fuck,” I say, stealing his word. He grins at me and hugs me, kissing the tip of my nose. 

“Come on, Lo-lo,” he purrs. His fingers brush across my groin and I squirm. “Trust me to take care of you. I’ll make it so good…make you come, and come, and come…” 

I groan, squeeze my eyes closed. “You’re going to make me spill in my pants if you keep rubbing me like that.” 

He steps back, holds out his hand, and says, “Let’s go upstairs, then.” 

In my lifetime, I’ve faced monsters and horrors and the threat of my own demise; I’ve angered my family and been hated by multitudes of races. And yet something about this moment scares me more than all of those other moments combined, because I feel like if I give myself to him this way, I’ll never be able to break myself from him. 

“Loki?” 

I reach out and take his hand before I’m aware of what I’m doing; my body craves everything he has to offer even though my mind is conflicted. I tremble and he pulls me closer, leads me from the room with a gentle touch to the base of my spine. 

We don’t speak in the elevator, though his hands never stray from my person. He strokes long, slow motions over my chest, soothing my heartbeat and lessening the tension that mounts in my body. By the time I trail him to his personal quarters, I’m halfway to entranced. 

“Take off your clothes for me?” he asks, breaking the silence. “If I do it, I’m afraid I might spook you. I don’t want you to be afraid of me.” 

“I’m not afraid.” 

“Lies,” he says, and unbuttons his own shirt. “But we’re here in this together, don’t forget that.” 

As though I could forget one thing about the maddening, brilliant human in front of me. I disrobe, folding my garments neatly and placing them on a chair; he strips in haphazard fashion, clothes ending up a pile on the floor. Yet for our different approaches, we reach the same conclusion – nudity. 

He’s beautiful. 

No, not in conventional ways; what he lacks in height he makes up for in bulk, in smoothly muscled arms and rosy nipples that peek out from dark chest hair. He grins, and I realize he examines me in the same way I stare at him. “You make a gorgeous human, Loki,” he says, quietly. “You’re just as stunning now as you were. So stop feeling inadequate, all right?” 

“I do not…!” 

“Stop,” he says again, and I am forced to heed him. “Don’t lie to me. There’s no need. I _see_ you, straight into the heart of you. I’m not intending to betray you or try to ‘fix’ you or otherwise knife you in the back. Stop being someone else, and just _feel_. Remember what I told you to do?” 

I think about it for a moment, and then it hits me. “You told me to close my eyes.” 

He nods. “Would you be willing to lay on my bed, close your eyes, and trust me to take care of you?” 

My knees refuse to hold my weight any longer. I swallow hard and sink to the bed, allowing him to arrange me in the center of it. He takes several pillows and props my head up. “Comfortable?” 

“Yes.” 

“Good,” he says. “Now, some people would say I’m a selfish asshole, and they’re probably right. But – something you need to pay attention to – I’m not a selfish lover. Okay? So tonight, I’m gonna be focusing on all the things that make you lose your mind. Are you with me?” 

He grins and I can’t help grinning back, though I know I’m blushing again and uncomfortable. “I’m with you,” I say, and he swoops down next to me to place a kiss to my mouth. “Stark!” I protest, as he rains kisses on my cheeks, my nose, my eyelids. 

Hush,” he commands. “Close your eyes.” 

I obey, expecting him to touch me again, but he doesn’t. The warmth of his body leeches through to mine when he sits on the bed next to me, but when he still doesn’t touch, I ask, “Aren’t you going to do something?” 

He tweaks my nipple and I let out an anxious noise, and he chuckles. “You need to be patient.” 

But I don’t want to be patient. I whine, arch up into the air, embarrassed and excited to be here with him. “Please?” 

He removes his fingers on my nipple and I squirm, using my body to plead for more of his touch. But I receive nothing; finally, I flop back, displeased. 

The moment I stop moving is the moment he leans over me and kisses my mouth. “Worn yourself out yet?” he teases. 

I open my mouth to reply but he kisses me again, touching his tongue to mine. I groan, but I see the game now – the more I acquiesce to his wants, the more attention I receive. “I’ve never been this passive in my life,” I huff, and he laughs at me. “I’m serious, this is not within the scope I hold myself.” 

“Nothing right now is within the scope you hold yourself,” he disagrees. “Therefore, it’s time to set yourself up with something new. And right now, your scope is to lay back and enjoy yourself and stop pushing me to give you what you want.” 

“But…” 

“Your job is to give me what _I_ want. Since this is new, I’ll spell it out for you. I want my dick so far up your ass that my balls rub against yours every time you breathe. I want your cock drooling all over your belly because you’re so turned on you can’t stop. I want to hear you cry out and have my name be the only word you can think of. And I want you to trust me that I will make all of these things happen, and that I’ll make you love it every step of the way. But we’re going to go at my pace, _not yours_. Do you understand me?” 

I can’t breathe. I open my eyes and blink at him, stunned by the seriousness in his voice and the firm look on his face. “What?” I croak. 

“You heard me,” he says. He reaches out and picks up my hands in his, thumbs tracing over the metal bracelets encircling my wrists. “You heard what I said. I want you to understand – when Odin put these on you, you had no choice. It stripped you of your magic, it took away a huge part of who you are. You lost the ability to make a lot of decisions for yourself, and I want you to give me the power to make those decisions for you.” 

“I’m not a pet.” 

He shakes his head. “No, not a pet. More like… look, this was supposed to be punishment, right? Forcing you to be human. I’m asking you to give me the ability to make all of your choices for you because I know what being human is like. I want to do it to care for you.” 

“No one cares for me.” 

“You’re wrong,” he sighs. “You felt that spark between us before, and it hasn’t faded. If anything, we’re more drawn to each other now than ever before.” 

“I don’t feel for people.” 

“Neither do I.” 

We’re both liars; I know how deeply he cares for the other Avengers, despite how furious he was with them earlier. And he knows how much it cuts me, to be so unloved by Odin when all I ever wanted was to be good enough to call him Father. “You ask me for a lot.” 

“Everything you give, I will give you the same,” he says. “I want your trust, and I’ll give you mine – I already have, Loki, think about it. I had to have some faith in you to introduce you to Everett. I had to trust you to bring you here and defend you to my teammates.” 

“You ask me for my free will and my heart, too.” 

It’s more truth than I’m used to sharing and it terrifies me that the words slip so easily out of my mouth. He looks shocked because I don’t think he expected my comment, either. “Loki… if you offer me all the pieces of yourself, I’ll take them.” 

The metal bands around my wrists don’t hurt as much when he touches them. And maybe… maybe I like being in his company and allowing him to have free reign over me. Like he might actually care. Like I might be worth something to him. 

I lay back against the pillows, shut my eyes, and force a deep breath out of my lungs. “I’m yours,” I say, softly. “Do with me as you will.” 


	4. Chapter 4

** Four **

He kisses me for what feels like hours. 

Our bodies stretch side-by-side on the bed, lying so that we face each other, midsections pressed together. He keeps one hand cupped against my neck and the other is being used as a pillow for his own head. Our breaths mingle; I cannot stop smiling as he nudges his nose against mine in something he calls an ‘Eskimo kiss’. My face is raw from the rasp of his beard, but it’s inconsequential to the overwhelming feeling of being pampered. The frantic energy from earlier has cooled into this slide of skin. The smell of sweat and arousal and the slick wetness that drips between my legs where our fluids mingle together. 

I may lose my mind before he ever touches me. 

“Do you know how long it’s been since I spent this much time making out with someone?” 

“Making out?” 

“Necking. Kissing without sex.” 

“Oh,” I say. “No?” 

“Maybe never. Haven’t ever wanted to before.” 

All of my nerve endings go liquid at what that implies. “You… prefer kissing me?” 

He laughs and I cringe. “Hey, none of that self-conscious bullshit,” he says, and leans in for more kisses. “Yeah, I prefer kissing you. I wanted so much tonight, but...” 

“But what?” 

“Now that I’ve got you here, I don’t want to rush anymore. I just want to keep tasting you.” 

I flush, duck my head and shut my eyes. “You mock me.” 

“Nope. Not at all. You’re like what color would taste like. Like if someone could smell electricity. And frankly I can’t get enough of your gorgeous mouth.” 

I move closer to him still, lick his bottom lip and suck it into my mouth. “I like this, too,” I confess. 

The way his face changes makes the admission worth my discomfort. More kisses, and then he’s rolling us so he’s braced above me. Now we touch everywhere and I moan, part my legs for him to settle between. “Oh…” 

My sex aches from where it rubs with his. “So much…” I pant. “Feels so much.” 

“I know. Are you ready for more?” 

“Yes.” 

He moves up and back and toward a small table beside the bed, pulling a small cylinder of something from it and a small, shiny square. Then he moves back to me. “Lube,” he says, holding it up. “Condom.” 

“This is standard for Midgardian mating rituals?” 

I don’t know how I manage to say it straight-faced, but he gapes at me. “What?” 

Oh, I cannot stop the giggle that escapes. His shock turns into amusement and he kisses me. “Trying to be a comedian, huh? Think you’re pretty funny, don’t you?” 

I nod and he grins. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh like that before. I like it. Kinda came from your belly.” 

He leans in and steals another kiss, and my giggling subsides. The moment of humor morphs back to sweet arousal. “Would you trust me if I asked you to roll on your stomach?” 

I arch an eyebrow at him, shove him back a little bit and roll over. He grabs a pillow and pulls me up so he can roll it under my hips. “Wow, not even a question? A comment?” 

“I told you that I’m yours,” I say, looking over my shoulder at him. “I cannot see how I could make any more honest a declaration.” 

He shakes his head. “You’re a wonder,” he says. 

I would respond, but the way his mouth moves against my rear takes my breath away. “What are you doing?” 

His lips brush over my thighs, the small of my back, and all the spaces in between. When he uses his fingers to part the cheeks of my buttocks, I squeak in outrage. “Tony! That’s not...!” 

“You’re mine, remember?” 

His voice is like gravel and I shudder, but I cannot force my thighs to unclench. “Open for me,” he demands. 

“But it’s so…” 

“I want to taste you everywhere.” 

One thing I can say for Tony Stark, he’s direct. I swallow hard and shift on the bed as he’s commanded. He makes a pleased noise and his fingers return to the space between my legs, putting my most private areas on display for his person. I take a deep breath as his mouth touches me there, expecting the worst… 

And I am surprised by the wounded noise I make when it feels amazing, like a great fire that burns under my skin. 

“Am I hurting you?” 

“ _Why did you stop???_ ” I demand, glaring at him. Then it strikes me, what he asked. “No, it doesn’t hurt! Again!” 

Tony laughs, says, “Yes dear,” and before I am reduced to threats he licks across the opening to my body again. 

I ache for it. 

Suddenly, the slow burn ignites into flame, and there’s no pride as I beg and plead for more. I have no idea what falls out of my mouth, but whatever it is, it urges him on, _deeper_ , and I am shocked by my own wantonness as I hitch my right leg up to give him better access to my body. 

“Please!” I shout, as he slides slippery fingers inside me. He crooks them and I’m lost, crying out, “Oh, yes, fuck, yes!” 

I come all over his pillow without him ever touching my prick, making what I can only describe as ridiculous sounds. He never stops pressing his fingers inside me, and after a few moments I sob as the pleasure becomes too much. “Please,” I say, and he lightens his touch. “Oh…” 

“Did you enjoy that?” 

He must be joking. 

“Loki?” 

“Hnng.” 

He wiggles his fingers and I shudder. “You still alive, Lo-lo?” 

“No,” I say, mashing my face into the pillow. “Dead.” 

“So I guess I can take my fingers out of you and give you my cock without any more prep? You feel all loose and relaxed now?” 

“Hnng.” 

“Wow, I’d have fucked the hell out of you sooner if I knew it made you this agreeable.” 

I reach up, grab the nearest thing to my hand, and hit him with it. Sadly, I’ve grabbed a pillow, so the impact isn’t anything exceptional. “If memory serves me right, you haven’t ‘fucked the hell out of me’ yet,” I complain. “And I’m hardly feeling agreeable anymore.” 

He bursts into raucous laughter and I cannot keep from smiling. “Get to it, Stark,” I say, grinning. 

“Yes, sir,” he teases back, reaching again for the lube and the condom. “We aim to please here at Stark Industries.” 

I roll my eyes, ready to snipe back at him except he’s moving over me, the hard curve of his arousal sliding between my nether cheeks. It’s not too sensitive, but the cooling of my own passions has left me raw. “I promise not to hurt you,” he murmurs in my ear. “I want to make this so good for you…” 

“It’s already good.” 

The head of his prick is much, much bigger than his fingers, but the hand on my hip guides me to arch back to meet him and give him better access to my body. “Tony,” I pant. 

“It’s okay,” he soothes, and holds himself still. “There’s no rush.” 

I yearn for my magic right now, wishing I had a way to give us the little bit of slickness we so obviously need. “Keep going,” I say. 

It takes slow movements to get us to the point where his testicles brush mine, as well as copious amounts of lube and patience. “Jesus fuck, Loki. Do you know what’s happening?” 

“You’re fucking me?” I ask, and he groans, trembles inside me. 

“No,” he says. “I just took your virginity, as a mortal. And pretty much made you mine for the rest of your life.” 

That notion doesn’t appall me as much as it should. “I like this. Here, under you.” 

He makes another noise of pain, asks, “How are you?” 

“It doesn’t hurt so much. If you want to… slowly?” 

His thrusts are miniscule, easing my inner muscles apart until the burn and stretch fades away. The first time he brushes that spot he found with his fingers, I buck back into him hard enough to have us both crying out. 

“Loki!” 

“What is that?” I ask, breathless. “Why does it feel….?” 

“Prostate. Explain later,” he says, and moves his hips again. 

We find a steady rhythm, moving in counterpoint, and the more he rolls his hips, the more my arousal flares to life. My no-longer-soft prick nudges up, catching me by surprise as he wraps his fingers around it. “Do you think you can come again?” 

I pant, nod, and sputter another string of ridiculous sounds. He kisses the spot behind my ear and drives his sex directly into that magical spot inside me. 

Suddenly, the slow, tentative dance we’ve been doing disappears, and we push each other toward a spectacular conclusion. Not only is my human body more than capable of coming again, but obviously his body – having been denied so long – is in the same state. 

He collapses on top of me when we finish, gasping. After a moment, he rolls to the side and gathers me against his chest. “Next time, we do that face-to-face, so I can see you.” 

I curl into his frame, tucking my head into his neck. “Why did we not do that this time?” 

“It’s less painful this way, when you’re not used to it,” he explains. “Besides, I wanted to rim you.” 

“Rim?” 

He has the audacity to wiggle his tongue in my ear, and I swat at him. “Stark!” 

I fall asleep to the sound of his laughter, the feel of his breath on my neck, the comfort of his arms surrounding me. 

_”Sirs?”_

I open my eyes some time later, only to find the sun shining through the full-wall windows of Stark’s bedroom. “JARVIS?” I ask. 

_”Forgive me for waking you, Mr. Lawson. However, Mr. Mitchell has dropped several dozen suit bags and cartons at the front desk for you. Staff is putting the boxes in your room as we speak. Also, Captain Rogers and Director Fury are looking for Mr. Stark. They are in the main gathering area upstairs.”_

I turn my head to look at the man sleeping next to me. He’s still asleep, drooling on his pillow, one hand thrown over his eyes. “Don’t wake him yet, JARVIS,” I say. “We didn’t get to sleep until…” 

_”Two eighteen. Yes, sir.”_

I blush, rub my face with one hand. “What time is it now?” 

_”Ten fifteen.”_

No wonder my body feels so good. I have not slept in this fashion since I was a child. “Can you distract them for a while, JARVIS?” 

_”Unfortunately, sir, I have spent the last six minutes distracting them and they are not patient this morning. Mr. Stark is late for a meeting. I have assured them that he has not come to harm, but they wish to see for themselves.”_

Harm? 

I do not realize I’ve spoken aloud until JARVIS says, _”You have, in the past, given them reason to worry, Mr. Lawson.”_

Oh. They think I’ve killed him. 

“Tony,” I say, shaking his arm gently. The glow from his chest shifts underneath the blanket as he twists. “Tony, you have to get up.” 

“Don’t wanna.” 

“Please? Your teammates think…” 

“I heard what JARVIS said,” he replies. “At the moment, I’m not inclined to give a fuck about what they want, since they’re so inclined to come into my home and issue me fucking orders about who’s welcome and…” 

“Then we really shouldn’t give them more ammunition, correct?” I ask. “Isn’t that what you told me? Not to let them win?” 

He opens one eye enough to glare at me. “Are you using my words against me? Really?” 

“It seems appropriate,” I reply, trying very hard to look innocent. 

It works, because he reaches out to cup the back of my neck and pulls me closer. “Good morning, Lo-lo,” he murmurs against my mouth, and kisses me. “Want to save time and share the shower?” 

I giggle. “Are you sure that would be safe?” 

“Hmm. JARVIS, tell the Director and Capsicle that they’re going to have to wait about twenty minutes while Loki and I dress. Also? Have those boxes redirected to my floor, in my walk-in.” 

I raise an eyebrow at him and he smirks. “Did you really want to go back to the room upstairs and sleep alone?” 

I shake my head no. “I want to be where you are,” I admit. “For however long you wish me to be with you.” 

He sits up, wraps his arms around me and hugs me. “Good. Now come on, you smell like my come and I really need to brush the taste of your asshole off of my teeth.” 

My mouth falls open and he laughs, gets out of the bed like he didn’t just say something horrifying, and walks toward the bathroom. “Coming?” 

I chase him into the shower. 

Once we are clean (and after we spend a good number of minutes touching each other), he shows me how to use a toothbrush and shares his ‘hair product’ with me. “Though I like the curls,” he says, earning himself a glare. “They’re cute.” 

“I do not wish to be ‘cute’,” I say. 

“Gonna have to try harder, then,” he says, and smacks me on the ass. I jolt, spin on my heel and throw myself at him. 

Fifteen minutes of furious kissing later, we return to his room, walking into stacks of brown cubes on the floor. He opens one, finds it full of – shoes? “How am I supposed to find something to wear?” I ask, exasperated. 

It takes the two of us long minutes to find something for me to put on – a soft, dark grey long sleeved tunic made of something called ‘flannel’ and a pair of jeans that hugged my ass a little too closely for my comfort. “Are you sure…?” 

“Trust me, you look great.” 

He’s thrown on his own jeans and a white shirt and shoes called ‘loafers’; he looks edible. “Come on.” 

“Shoes?” 

He frowns, digs through the box until he comes up with black shoes I can slip my feet into. “These.” 

Once I’m deemed appropriate, he asks JARVIS to please have someone ‘organize this mess’ and leads me down the hall to the elevator. 

“You know Fury’s going to be a dick,” he says, and I blink at him. “An asshole.” 

“I could assume so, yes.” 

“You sure you’re ready for going with me?” 

“I believe I’ll be able to handle the rest of your team much more efficiently than I did yesterday.” 

He tilts his head to one side. “Why do you think so?” 

“I was… I did not know where I stood yesterday,” I explain, hesitating. “I did not have my bearings, was out of my element without direction. Drifting.” 

“And now?” 

“Now I know exactly where I should be,” I reply. “If I go too far, you’ll tell me without shaming me. If I feel alone, I need only look at you to know I am… wanted.” 

He sighs, cups my face in his hand and kisses me. “That’s perfect. Just remember that and everything will be fine.” 

The elevator dings to announce our arrival and Tony gives me one last kiss ‘for the road’. Then he takes a deep breath and steps off of the elevator. 

I trail behind him as we enter the main room, and I force myself to meet the gaze of each of the occupants. I could try to use a mask of cold indifference, or one of disdain, but I realize after yesterday they would not believe me. 

Humility doesn’t suit, but it’s the best weapon I have right now. 

“Come with me,” he says, and steers me toward the kitchen. I trail behind him, keeping one eye on the others in the room and one eye on Tony. When we get to the kitchen, he gestures to a seat there. “Cocoa?” 

“You’re trying to make them angry, aren’t you.” 

He grins. “Absolutely. Now: cocoa?” 

“Please,” I say, and take the seat he points to. Or, I try; as soon as I hit the cushion, I yelp and stand up again. 

He spins around from the machine he calls the espresso maker. “What’s the matter?” 

“Oh…” I say, and in lieu of a response I rub my hand across the seat of my pants. “That hurt.” 

“Sitting?” 

I blush, and suddenly he starts to laugh because he’s realized… “Are you sore from last night?” 

“It’s not funny!” I say, leaning cautiously against the counter instead. 

“It kinda is,” he disagrees, and when I glare at him he holds up his hands in surrender. “Sorry, but it’s funny. You were such a pain in the ass the last time you were here, I guess it’s only fair that I get to return the favor.” 

“You’re a horrible man.” 

He takes milk from the fridge, pours it into a silver chalice, and holds it under the machine. It hisses, foams, and he adds a brownish powder to it. When that’s complete, he pours it into a cup and hands it to me. 

It’s perfect. 

“You’re still horrible.” 

“You like it.” The machine makes a second, black steam – something he calls espresso – and he drinks. “Now that’s what I call breakfast! So, ready to go face Nicky and Cap?” 

I glance longingly at the shelf of books above the kitchen counter. “I think I’d rather stay in here and read.” 

“Later.” He turns to exit the room and walks directly into Captain America. “Steve!” he exclaims. “What’re you doing in here?” 

“Glad to see you alive,” the blond man says, sighing. “I was wondering how much longer you were going to delay in here?” 

“Just had to get some coffee. And get a few calories into Loki here, he could use to gain a few pounds, don’t you think?” 

I glance down at myself; thin, yes, but gaining weight? Too much weight and I’d curve out too much. “I thank you for the beverage, Tony Stark,” I say. 

“See, Steve? I’m alive. Loki’s alive. Everything’s perfectly fine. You and Nicky can go back to whatever little S.H.I.E.L.D. projects you’ve got going and I can go back to my workshop. See? Everybody wins.” 

“Fury would like to speak to him,” Rogers says. “After what happened yesterday afternoon among the team, it’s come to his attention that Coulson had to step in and…” 

“And where were you during that debacle, Steve, hmm?” Tony asks. “Off playing errand-boy for Nicky here?” 

“Stark,” the dark skinned man snaps. He’s appeared in the kitchen as well and we resettle in the smaller space. “You’ve got a fucking war criminal living in your home, you might consider respecting your teammates’ opinions about him.” 

“But that’s where you fucked up. If my teammates don’t want to live with Loki, they’re more than capable of leaving. You see, this was all discussed with Thor and _you fucking agreed to it already_.” 

“We…” 

“Enough!” I shout, and they look at me. Tony and Fury both look murderous, but for different reasons, and Rogers seems content to spectate. “I don’t have my magic. I cannot… there’s nothing here for me to use to harm anyone. I’m not a threat to you.” 

“For now. But there were rules to your stay here. Rules like keeping you away from other innocent human beings,” Fury growls. 

“So what, Nicky? I should’ve kept him alone, naked in his room, instead of asking my tailor to dress him?” Tony says, and laughs. “That would’ve taught him to trust me, right? Treat him like a goddamn animal? Would you have done that to Bruce?” 

“Bruce never…” 

“If you try to tell me that Bruce never tried to destroy anything, I’ll punch you in your smug superhero face,” Tony snaps at Rogers. “I’m sick as fuck with all of the rules changing because you’re terrified of the ‘what-ifs’!” 

“That’s not the point,” Rogers says. “We know this is a lot for you to take on…” 

“Do you wish to lock me up?” 

I don’t realize I spoke the question aloud until they’re staring at me. “Loki,” Tony says, but I hold up a hand to cut him off. 

“Do you? Is that how you intend to ‘rehabilitate’ me? By locking me away until this now-human body dies?” 

Steve recoils; always the hero, this Captain America, and the idea of watching me suffer in such a way causes him physical discomfort. “That wasn’t the plan of us taking you on,” he admits. “But nor was it our plan to leave you up to your own devices or put the entire burden of responsibility on Tony.” 

“I asked for this, Steven,” Tony says, his voice deceptively calm. “You were there, if you recall.” 

“But…” 

“You could send me back to Asgard,” I continue, flippant. “They could carry out the sentence which the All-Father bestowed upon me. You could force his hand. Of course, I’d hate to see what harm befell Midgard afterwards, when Thor realizes that those he thought he could trust betrayed him the same way I did. But I would be disposed of, in any case. Surely you could handle one angry god?” 

Fury bristles. “Listen to me, you slick son of a bitch, don’t think for a minute that you being dead would cause me to lose sleep.” 

“I wouldn’t dare think of it,” I sneer. “Nor would your death worry me. But as I am no longer capable of killing you via magic, we can only hold on to our hatred and our hopes of meeting under different circumstances, correct?” 

“You’re a psychotic fuck,” Fury snaps, and that, more than anything else, lights an anger in me so bright I cannot see past it. I snatch a fork from the countertop and lunge for him, but I have no chance of connecting; Rogers steps between us, backhands me and sends me crashing into the opposing wall. My head slams into the molding and I hit the floor, dazed. 

Tony kneels next to me as I start laughing. “See?” I say, between breaths. I touch my face and pull my fingers away to see them covered in my own blood. “Do you see what I’ve become? No more a danger to you than anyone else! I’m powerless here, weak, puny, I’m _fucking human, you fucking idiots_. So hate me, lock me away, save the All-Father the effort and kill me yourselves! I don’t care!” 

Tony gathers me in his arms, shushing me, but I can’t stop the words falling _I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care_. “Are you happy now?” Tony asks, but I’m not sure whether the question’s directed to me or to them. “Did you get what you came for, Nicky? Do you feel like the big man?” 

“Fuck you, Stark.” 

“No, fuck you. You’ve got two options – get on board or get out.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“What part do you not understand? You either start treating Loki like a real person with feelings, or you get the fuck out of my house. Take your agents, take the Cap here, take the entirety of S.H.I.E.L.D. and get it off of my property. Tell Clint and Tasha to pack their shit and get out, or I’ll get my lawyers to make your life a living nightmare.” 

“Tony…!” 

“No, Steve. Thor’s my friend, and he asked this one thing of me, and I gave him my fucking word. I don’t know why, but this actually means something. So you’re either with me or you’re not.” 

The shouting subsides until the only sound in the room is my panting. “I’ll be watching you closely. _Both_ of you,” Fury bites out, and turns from the room. “Captain Rogers!” 

Rogers puts a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “I hope you know what you’re doing here,” he murmurs. He gives Tony a gentle squeeze, continues, “I’m always on your side, Tony. You’re my friend – you know that.” 

“I’m not feeling very friendly right now,” Tony grunts. “But yeah. See you later.” 

The silence falls heavily once they leave us. I cannot look Tony in the eye. “So…” 

“If you pull a stunt like that again, I’ll beat your ass so hard you’ll never sit down while living in this house. Do you understand?” 

“But…!” 

“You think you had to prove that you were human? You don’t think that Fury ran every test known to man and god on you while you were unconscious?” 

I hadn’t thought of that. Oh, this mortality! I continue to lose my edge, the longer I’m here! “No. I didn’t think about it.” 

“No, you didn’t think at all!” he shouts, and gets up. “You didn’t goddamn think about what would happen if you pushed someone!” 

“I didn’t want them to take me away,” I say, quietly. 

“I know that, you infuriating idiot!” 

He digs his fingers into my arms. “God, I’m so fucking angry with you, and you’re bleeding on my floor. Hold still and I’ll get something for your face.” 

“Tony…” 

“Hush.” He grabs a cloth from the counter and runs it under water. Wringing it out, he presses it to the side of my head and I flinch. “Does it hurt?” 

“I seem to be much more aware of pain in this body.” 

“I’ll make you aware of pain,” he grumbles, but when I look at him, he’s not angry. He’s… 

“Are you worried about me?” 

“I’ll get the first aid kit. You stay here and don’t move. Got it?” 

“Yes.” 

He stomps out of the room, and when he comes back he no longer looks so irate. “Turn your head.” 

I do so without comment. He dabs a cream on my face. “That’s going to bruise.” 

“I suspected as much.” 

“You don’t have to worry about them taking you from here.” 

“I didn’t know how far you’d go to defend me when they pointed out such obvious things to you. How easy it would be for me to manipulate you, given your desire for me.” 

“They didn’t expect you to feel the same need for me, however.” 

I catch my lip between my teeth and worry it. He chuckles. “Don’t kid yourself. You no more want to leave than I want you to go.” 

“I just said as much.” 

“But now Fury knows exactly how human you are,” he continues. “You’ve proven yourself vulnerable.” 

“I thought I was supposed to be showing people they should not fear me?” 

“There’s a difference between ‘people’ and ‘Nick Fury’, Lo-lo. Most people won’t hold being human against you because they don’t know that there are things out there beyond the realms of human comprehension.” 

“Like the citizens of Asgard?” 

“Like the citizens of Asgard.” 

I have made a terrible mistake in showing weakness to those at S.H.I.E.L.D., I realize. “There’s no fix for this.” 

“Not right now. No. Are you able to stand?” 

I nod and he helps me to my feet, holding onto me until I can regain my equilibrium. “”You still defended me.” 

He glances up sharply. “You’re mine. I’m not really good with sharing what’s mine. Especially by one-eyed assholes who think I owe them something.” 

“He reminds me of the All-Father. But the All-Father is missing his other eye.” 

“You’re shitting me.” 

I don’t understand the expression, and he says, “Is that the truth?” 

“Yes.” 

Tony starts laughing, and explains to me the concept of ‘bookends’. I cannot help but smile at him. “So how much trouble have I caused you?” 

“You tried to stab the pirate in charge with a fork,” he says, glaring at me. I duck my head and try to make myself as small as possible but he shakes his finger at me. “Oh, no you don’t. None of that innocent, ‘I’m so adorable’ crap. I’m still pissed at you.” 

“What are you going to do?” 

“Probably take you back to bed and fuck that smirk off of your face.” 

I find I haven’t any argument to that. 


	5. Chapter 5

** Five **

The rest of the first week runs on a cycle of eating, sleeping, talking and sex. I thought Thor and Fandral were annoying, but I never understood the definition of talkative until I was left in Stark’s presence. Everything with Tony is debatable; I find myself asking and answering more questions than I ever have in my life. 

I’m frightened to find myself caring about the answers, being interested in Midgard and science and humanity in ways I never wanted to be. Does this mean that humanity suits me, when I should be doing everything in my power to find a way out of these chains? Does my lack of ambition to regain my magic make me weak? I do not understand any of these feelings I have, but I have no way to evade them. 

And yet, I become comfortable when the second, third, and fourth weeks work the same way. I learn that not only does he talk incessantly, but I have never known a more tactile creature than Tony. With him, my defenses are stripped down and thrown aside so that I can enjoy the delight of his touch. Whether it be in the morning, when he wakes me with hands on my sex, or in the afternoon, where he cups my neck for kisses, or at night, when he touches his hand to my stomach to soothe, the man cannot keep his hands to himself. 

I find myself behaving in the same manner in return. When he makes coffee, I press against his back and breathe in the scent of his shampoo. When we sit on the couch so he can introduce me to movies, I curl into his side and tuck my head under his chin. 

This is where we are now: curled together and watching something called the Matrix. Despite the unbearably bad storyline, the things Tony refers to as special effects intrigue me. “So this Neo needs to use his hands to stop bullets?” 

“He bends reality.” 

I arch an eyebrow at him. “You realize that even with Midgardian technology, he would need more than his fingertips to stop bullets without appropriate enchantments.” 

“Two words, Lo-lo. Alternate. Reality.” 

I grab the empty bowl from his lap and frown at it. “More popcorn?” I ask. 

He nods, and I trudge to the kitchen to make a second bowl. Come to find out, the Midgardian culinary technology isn’t much different than what I’m used to in Asgard, and so working the appliances in the kitchen doesn’t confuse me. I open the microwave and toss a new bag of popcorn into it, waiting for the timer to sound. I turn to grab the garlic salt out of the cabinet – for this is how Tony likes it to taste – and find myself nose-to-nose with the redheaded Russian assassin. I manage not to jump, but barely. “I didn’t hear you come in,” I say, and dig my feet into the floor so I don’t step backwards. 

“You weren’t supposed to.” 

Oh. Well, that makes sense. I wait for her to announce her intentions but she seems content to stare at me. Cautiously I reach over her to grab the garlic and move away from her. As soon as the microwave chimes, I open the bag, dump it into the bowl, and sprinkle it with the condiment. “Would you like some?” I ask. 

She continues to stare at me. I wonder if I was ever this disconcerting. 

I hope I was. 

She reaches out and takes a kernel, crunches it between her teeth, and says, “I see Stark’s getting you hooked on films.” 

“Yes? It’s… I like them.” 

“Do you?” 

“Do I what?” 

“Like them.” 

Confused, I ask, “Did I not just say that?” 

“Forgive me for having trouble believing what you say,” she says, and takes another piece of the popcorn from the bowl. She crushes it between her fingers and puts the broken bits in her mouth. “You’ve been here a month now.” 

“I have,” I say. This is a power play, something I’m familiar with, as I’ve done enough of them in my time. I straighten my spine. “And yet, in the month, I’ve not caused havoc like you expected. Is that what you’re saying?” 

She doesn’t blink, doesn’t smile. She chews, watching me, and I roll my eyes. “I don’t have time for your childishness.” 

As I try to move past her, her arm shoots out and slams into my chest, not hard enough to hurt but hard enough to stop my progress out of the room. “What’s your game, Loki?” 

“There’s no game,” I say. “Unless you consider survival a game. The only part I play right now is that of a human being, and a rather lost one at that.” 

She doesn’t move her hand. “You realize we’re all watching you for when you fail?” 

I grit my teeth and picture the look on Tony’s face when I took a stab at Nick Fury. Not wanting to put that expression of anger or worry back on his face, I button down every desire to fight with her and say, “I’m glad you offer me the same chance of failure that your little archer offered you. He gave you a second opportunity after you tried to kill him, did he not?” 

Okay, maybe I’m fighting a little bit. But verbally – no more forks. I’m gratified to see her flinch back, and I grin sharply. Stepping around her, I return to the living room and retake my seat next to Tony. “Popcorn,” I say, and put the bowl in his lap. 

He strokes a hand through my hair as he wraps his arm around my shoulders. “C’mere, you,” he says, and I easily lean into the space between his arm and his ribs. When I’m once again curled into his side, I rest my head on him and snatch a bite of popcorn. “What took you so long?” he asks as he pushes the play button on the remote. 

“I bumped into Natasha in the kitchen.” 

He turns to look at me out of the corner of his eye. “Is the kitchen still standing?” 

“Yes. But I was forced to share the popcorn.” 

“I can’t believe you ruin popcorn with garlic salt,” floats a voice from behind us. The woman known as the Black Widow sits on the other side of Tony, not close enough to touch him, but close enough that she can reach for the bowl in his lap. 

“You could always make your own,” Tony suggests. 

She smiles faintly. “I could’ve.” 

We watch the rest of the film in silence. Tony hands Natasha the bowl, gets up, and starts the next movie in the series. When he comes back, he shoves me into the corner of the couch and sprawls across me. He’s warm, not too heavy, and I find myself wrapping my arms around him just to keep him close. He feels so good in my arms, especially when I spread my legs a bit so he can sink between them. I close my eyes and sigh in contentment. It seems like only a second passes, but I find the movie’s half-over when I next open my eyes. Tony’s still asleep and we’re entwined in each other. I can’t stop the smile on my face when he shifts and nuzzles closer to me. 

“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?” 

I look up to see that the archer perches on the arm of the sofa, Natasha’s hand on his thigh. He’s grinning at me. “Like, ridiculously in love with him.” 

I don’t respond; I close my eyes instead. I am safe here, with this man on top of me, despite the assassins in the room. And as if to prove it, Tony’s fingers search out my wrists as he slumbers. Brushing his thumbs across the bracelets, he whispers, “Mine.” 

I kiss his forehead, falling back to sleep. 

The next time I open my eyes, Natasha and the archer are gone, but a blanket’s been thrown over Tony and me. I smile; it seems my weakness for Tony is considered a strength with the two of them. It makes me wonder about their relationship, and whether it’s professional or not. 

“You’re thinking too loudly,” Tony says, shifting above me. “Ouch. M’arm’s asleep. Why’m I under a blanket?” 

“I believe the Black Widow did it.” 

He grins into my chest. “What’d you say to her?” 

“Me? Nothing!” 

He sits up, knocking the blanket away. “No, you said or did something. Tash doesn’t do things like this unless you’ve done something to make her fond of you. She’s like that.” 

“Maybe she did it for you and not for me.” 

“I’ve been on her shit list ever since I stood up for you. You did something – I know it. Don’t lie to me.” 

_The archer accused me of loving you and I didn’t deny it._

“I have no idea,” I say, and though he gives me a dirty look I don’t cave in and tell him. 

“Fine. Don’t tell me. I’ll figure it out on my own.” 

Doubtful. I wiggle out from under him and stretch. “What do you want to do this evening, Mr. Stark?” I ask. “More TV? Go for a run in the gym? What’s your pleasure?” 

“Actually… I was wondering…” He pauses. “Did you want to go out to dinner with me?” 

I freeze, unsure how to proceed. “You mean, leave the Tower?” 

“Yeah.” 

I have not left the building since I arrived. “I thought it was not permitted? That it would be seen as a reason for S.H.I.E.L.D. to step in?” 

Tony scowls. “I think S.H.I.E.L.D. has stepped in enough already. You’ve been here a month, and in that time we’ve been called out for six different emergencies. You’ve been a perfect houseguest while we’ve been gone. Don’t you feel like it’s time for a reward?” 

I shrug. “I simply do not wish to cause you harm or injury with your peers.” 

“Well, time to say fuck ‘em. It’s been a month. I think a month’s good behavior earns you some sort of parole. So, where do you want to go to eat? Anything you’ve seen on the TV or read about catch your eye?” 

My biggest weakness – other than Tony – is the collection of books I can download onto his computer. I’ve read every newspaper and manuscript I could find time to read. “I’ve not tried sushi yet,” I say. “What you call seafood was something of a delicacy on Asgard.” 

“Really?” 

I nod. “Most of our foods consisted of roasted meats.” 

“Oh, man. I can’t wait to see you use chopsticks! JARVIS, what time is it?” 

_”Twenty to seven, sir.”_

“Get us a table at 15 East for eight o’clock.” 

_”Yes, sir.”_

He yanks me to my feet and drags me to his… _our_ bedroom, rushing me through a shower and prodding me to shave my face while he bathes. I smooth back my hair – shortened, thanks to the stylist he uses – and dab cologne onto my skin, brush my teeth and head into the walk-in closet where my suits hang. 

I want to look perfect for him tonight. 

I pull out an Armani suit bag, a sleek black suit with a white shirt, black and silver tie and silver pocket square. I dress myself, add a belt and black shoes and return to the bedroom. 

“Jesus.” 

I blush as he pulls me close enough to kiss me, straightening my tie and patting my ass at the same time. “How many hands do you have?” I mock-complain. 

“Never enough for you. Hey, you look amazing, but something’s missing.” 

“What?” 

He walks over to his dresser and pulls out a small blue box. “This should do it,” he says, and hands it to me. 

I arch an eyebrow at him and he laughs, waves a hand at me to open it. When I do, I note the elegant scrawling ‘Tiffany’s’ across the top. Upon opening the box, I see two small metallic squares engraved with scripted letters that say LL and contain green gems. “They’re beautiful, Tony, but - what are they?” 

“Cufflinks,” he explains, and takes the box from my hand. “They’re platinum and emerald cufflinks for your suit. Let me put them on you?” 

I nod. He gently clasps my hand in his, raises it so he can attach the square to my shirt and work it through the buttonhole on the sleeve. The brilliant silver rests against my skin, and outshines the thin cuffs around my wrists. Once he attaches the other, he steps back. “Do you like them?” 

“They’re the color of my eyes,” I say, softly. “And they take the focus away from the metal on my wrists. And those are my initials. I… I’ve never gotten a gift like this before. They’re perfect.” 

He beams. “I knew it! I picked them out myself, Pepper was so shocked because she didn’t think I could get a gift this good but I knew you’d love them, I knew they were exactly what you’d wear.” 

“I love them,” I say, and it’s all I can do to tell him what I love other than the cufflinks. “I… thank you.” 

We wrap ourselves in coats and head to the elevators, down into the building lobby and out into the night. He’s called for his car and he gestures me into it, and we head to the restaurant. 

When we arrive, he walks with me to a rounded corner table and we sit down, chairs moved so that we’re close enough to brush shoulders. We face into the room and I cannot help but stare at all of the people and sights around me. “Are you okay?” he asks. 

“Yes,” I reply. “It’s just… the last time I was among the populace, I did not have the time nor inclination to look at it. It’s so much to take in, isn’t it?” 

“That’s why I defend it the way I do. Because somewhere along the line, I realized it all means something, no matter how small it may be.” 

“I feel like I should apologize.” 

He frowns. “No. Don’t. That’s not why I took you to dinner, Lukas,” he says, my created name falling easily from his lips. “This wasn’t to make you feel guilty. This was to give you more to learn, a different view. This is a positive experience, not a negative one.” 

“Good evening, gentlemen,” says a voice from my left. “My name is Lin, and I will be your server this evening. May I start you off with a drink?” 

“We’d like a bottle of Hakutsuru,” Tony says. 

She bows to him and hands us both a white towel. I watch as he wipes his hands with it and I follow suit. Once our fingers are cleaned with the warm cloth, she collects them, bows again, and departs. 

“What was that?” 

“It’s the brand of a special rice wine called sake. I think you’ll like it. I’ll order and explain the courses, all right? I know what will make you happy.” 

He’s right, of course. I love the sake. I also love the steaming bowls of homemade hand-cut soba noodles, the rich squid ink risotto, and the smoked magret duck with hojicha tea. He feeds me thinly cut tar tare salmon and tuna and cold eggs that make my mouth burn with spice. We drink more wine, and talk, and laugh at each other’s stories and comments. I’m in the middle of telling him a story about a time when I accidently-on-purpose set Thor’s hair on fire when it hits me: 

I’m in love with him. 

I stop talking mid-sentence and he raises an eyebrow. “You okay?” 

Oh. “I think the wine…” I stop again. “Forgive me.” 

He reaches across the table and cups my chin. “You realize you don’t lie so well anymore, right?” 

I cannot answer. I lean into the weight of his hand, eyes closing in sheer pleasure from his touch. “I read online what this is, you know,” I say. 

“What?” 

“The way you touch me, ease me into saying and doing things to please you. I thought it was some kind of magic, or mind-control, but it’s not, is it? Your touch makes me feel good. The Internet calls it domination, but it doesn’t feel like what I read.” 

Tony chuckles. “I’m glad my touch doesn’t panic you. When you first… hm. How do I say this? When you first came to me, you weren’t someone I trusted, but someone I wanted all the same. Was it a wise decision? Not at all. Am I glad I made this decision anyway? A thousand times, yes. And I thought to myself, what’s the one thing you most needed?” 

He waits and I pry an eyelid open. “You think you knew what I needed most?” 

“Fuck yes. I saw it, the first time I met you. You do what I do: push people back and keep them from touching you. So I thought touching you might help. Then I kind of fucked up.” 

“Why?” 

“Because touching you like a friend wasn’t enough for me. I wanted to touch you everywhere, in every way.” 

“And now you have,” I admit. “Still pleased with your decision?” 

“Yes, because I love you, you idiot.” 

I gape at him in a most unflattering way. “W…what?” 

Tony laughs. “Jesus Christ. You’re brilliant but blind! Do you really think I give customized gifts to everyone? Do you think I’d sleep with the same person over and over if I wasn’t invested in this?” 

I move my chair closer to him so we’re in each other’s space. “But why me? You could’ve had anyone, been with anyone. Hell, you’re friends with _Thor_.” 

“Why would I want Thor? Have you ever tried _talking_ to Thor? He’s a nice guy, but not the sharpest tool in the shed. You, on the other hand, are breathtakingly smart and gorgeous. It was never a competition between the two of you because _you’d already won_.” 

I have no idea how to respond, other than to lean into him and wrap myself around him. “I love you, too,” I say. “Every time I look at you, I can’t imagine myself anywhere but with you. You’re the first to ever see me, know everything about me, and still want me.” 

“I don’t know everything about you,” he replies, smiling. “But I know enough to like what I’ve learned so far.” 

“Despite how we met?” 

“Well, I’m hoping you won’t feel the need to conquer the earth to impress me the same way you hoped to impress your father, but yeah.” 

I shake my head. “You’re the only one who figured that out. Even when you offered me that drink, I felt you knew me better than those who’d known me for millennia.” 

“Maybe because I’m a crazy son-of-a-bitch who doesn’t have enough common sense to run from guys with glowing spears,” he teases. 

“Or maybe you’re a genius who already figured out that I didn’t want to kill you.” 

He kisses me, and not until a blinding white light goes off near me do I remember that we’re in public. I jump back from him but he catches my wrist in his fingers. “Easy,” he whispers. 

He turns his attention to the man in front of us. “May I help you?” he asks. 

The interloper leans forward, holds up a square box with red lights on it. “Mr. Tony Stark?” 

“Yes.” 

“My name’s Chris Barclay, I’m from the New York Daily News.” 

Tony’s entire demeanor changes. He smiles coldly at the man, says, “Of course you are. And you just happened to be dining here this evening?” 

Barclay has the grace to look ashamed. “No, sir. It’s been awhile since we’ve seen you on the town, so I might’ve been keeping an eye on your comings and goings from Stark Tower.” 

“Phenomenal,” Tony says. “You’ve got your photo, now go away.” 

“Mr. Stark, who can I credit as to the second person in the picture? The man you were kissing?” He looks at me with frank interest. “It’s going to be hard for people to reconcile that the infamous ladies’ man has gone over to play in a different field.” 

“You can speculate all you like, Mr. Barclay. However, any innuendo from the Daily News will be seen as an act of hostile aggression and will be dealt with by my lawyers. As many of them as I have to hire to bury you,” Tony adds. He’s glorious now, in his casual disdain, every inch the ruthless businessman. “I’m sure you understand what slander is, and how quickly it can cause me to buy the paper and shut it down.” 

Barclay pales. “Yes, Mr. Stark. I’m only a photographer, sir, so please…? Your, um. Guest’s name?” 

“Mr. Lukas Lawson. With a ‘K’, not a ‘C’.” 

I tilt my head at the man and turn so that he cannot get another photograph. I hear Tony say a few more words to him, and then he takes a card from Barclay with the photographer’s information on it. “Well, shit,” Tony says, when the other man finally leaves. “Shit.” 

“What’s going to happen?” 

“I think we just got outed.” 

“I don’t know what that means.” 

“It means that in tomorrow’s paper, there’s going to be a photo of the two of us kissing, and everyone’s going to know that you and I are together.” 

“And that’s bad?” 

“Since no one’s supposed to know you exist in Midgard, yeah. Pretty bad. If it were up to me, though? I wouldn’t give a damn who knew we were together.” 

His words do much to make me feel better. “I don’t want to cause you difficulty with Fury and S.H.I.E.L.D.” 

“Too late,” he says, and starts laughing. “The minute you fell into my life, you were destined to be trouble. But I wouldn’t want you any other way.” 

With that, he flags down our server and requests the bill. “I want to go home and see how far you’d let me go with that dominance thing. Other than just touching your face.” 

“It’s more than that already and you know it,” I retort, but I can’t help the blush that crawls across my cheeks. “You’re a menace.” 

He touches my nose with his fingertips. “You love it.” 

Somehow he manages to sign off on his credit card receipt – another wonder of this world, these tiny plastic means of exchange – and we retreat to the safety of his car. When we return to Stark Tower he leads me to his private rooms. “You look amazing in that suit and I can’t wait to peel it off of you,” he says, once we’re in private. 

“You paid for this suit. You can do whatever you want with it.” 

He arches an eyebrow. “Is that approval for me ripping it off of you?” 

“You have my approval for anything you want,” I admit. I look away from him and out the windows beyond his bed. “Whether it be suit-related or not.” 

“Loki,” he groans, and then we’re on each other – frantically pulling fabric from skin, mouths mashed together in a struggle that I intend to lose. “Fuck, Loki, you taste so fucking good!” 

I fumble with his necktie – when did my fingers fail me? – and bite kisses at his throat. “You. You do. Please, please, I want you so much.” 

In a show of strength, he yanks at my knees until I’m forced to wrap them around his waist and hang on. “You’re going to break you back,” I say, gasping as he carries me across the room to his bed. “Tony!” 

“Hush,” he says, dumping me onto the mattress. I lift my hips when he yanks at my pants, leaving me sprawled across the bed with only my undershirt on and a sock dangling from my right foot. “You look amazing.” 

“I look ridiculous,” I say, and rub my foot against the bed to remove the offending article of clothing. “Help me out of my shirt, if you’re intending to undress me.” 

He grins and assists me in removing the last piece of my clothing. “There. Better?” 

“Yes, thank you.” 

“So prissy,” he teases, and I cannot stop the stupid blush on my cheeks. “You look amazing whether you’re dressed, half dressed, or undressed. Get used to it.” 

I reach for him and he evades me, catching my hands in his and gathering them together. “I want you to move to the middle of the bed and I’m going to put your hands on the headboard. I want you to keep them there.” 

My prick, half-hard already, strains up to my belly. He doesn’t comment on it but his gaze darkens, more predatory than before. I’m moving before I’m aware of myself, doing as he asks… no. Doing as he orders. “Please.” 

He reaches to the table near his bed, opens a drawer and pulls out the lube and a condom. He hesitates a moment, then says, “I don’t have any diseases, if you’d be willing to skip the condom.” 

“Yes,” I say. There’s no thought needed. “I want that.” 

“Are you certain?” 

“Yes!” 

He tosses the silver square back in the drawer and slams it shut. “Good,” he says, and crawls into the space between my legs. Gently, he hooks his hands under my thighs and pushes them apart. “Let me see you.” 

I hold my legs open for him and he sits back to stare at me. “Beautiful,” he murmurs, and when I get embarrassed and try to move he rests his hands on my thighs. “No. Don’t close your legs. Stay like this for me.” 

I shudder, lift my shoulders from the mattress but I cannot sit up due to the fact that I’m clenching onto the rungs of the headboard. “Tony…” 

He smiles at my predicament. “Don’t let go. I can’t tell you how gorgeous you look, all spread out for me across the bed like some sort of lithe, delicious temptation. Your ass blushes as much as your face does, did you know that?” 

I turn even more red, press my face into my arm to hide. “I didn’t need to know that.” 

“Yes, you did. Like now, your hole’s clenching down hard. You’re so excited, aren’t you? You want my fingers? Hmm? Tell me.” 

“Oh, fuck, yes,” I blurt, mortified by my own need and so aroused it physically hurts. “Please, give me your fingers, touch me, make me come!” 

The cap on the lube opens and I groan, peek over my arm to watch him warm the slick in his hands. “Put your legs over my shoulders,” he says. “Can you do that for me? Are you that flexible?” 

I lift my legs so my calves rest near his ears. “Good,” he says. “I’m not gonna last long. I want this too much, so tell me if I go too fast, all right?” 

I nod, wiggle my hips in anticipation and he chuckles. “Something tells me you aren’t going to last long, either.” 

“No, I want your prick, I want to come.” 

He squints, takes a deep breath through his nose. “Fuck, that’s hot.” 

My reply is cut off when he slips a finger into me, crooking it to open me up. I whine and beg and plead but he will not hurry, won’t move before he’s ready. I lose myself to the sound of his name on my lips, begging to be fucked – and it should be demeaning, how much I want it, but I don’t care. “Please, Tony, if you love me, for all that you hold dear, get the fuck inside me!” I finally shout. 

The miserable bastard _laughs_ , lines his prick up with my hole, and shoves into me. I arch up and _shit!_ he folds me in half, my thighs resting against his chest and my prick inches from my own mouth. “Holy fuck,” he groans, bearing his weight down upon me. “Fuck, you could suck your own cock, couldn’t you?” 

I whimper, past the point of coherent speech, though my thoughts run wild with the idea. Fortunately he doesn’t push the issue, asks me if I’m all right. When I manage to nod, he thrust into me, stealing my breath away. 

We move together, me arching up, him rocking down, my legs over his shoulders and his hands clenching on my wrists, forcing me to cling to the headboard. “So hot. So fucking hot, so sexy, so fucking _mine_ … say it, Loki, say it!” 

“I’m yours!” 

My voice isn’t my own, lower in octave and breathy. I gasp for air, then say, “Please, I’m yours. I love you too…” 

He clamps his hands down hard and spills his seed inside me, snarling, “Mine!” 

And suddenly, Odin’s magic fails, leaving the bracelets on my wrists as nothing more than ornament. 

I climax, howling into the room as pure white pleasure and the force of my magic slam into me. “Christ, are you all right?” he asks, because of course. He can’t see what happened to me. 

I let go of the headboard, grab at his shoulders and pull him forward for a kiss. My magic – my magic! – flares around me, warming me, soothing me, holding me and I can feel my knowledge of the world around me expand and multiply in infinity. “I’m good. Really good,” I say, and kiss him again. “Please, let go of my legs?” 

Wait…… 

If my magic’s back, why am I saying please? 

Why am I not killing this mortal who dares lay his hands upon me? 

Why am I not vanishing into the air to escape? 

“I love you, Loki,” he says, nuzzling me with his nose. He hands stroke over my face, rubbing my cheek and his lips trace over my chin. “You’re so beautiful. Perfect. So very adored…” 

I sigh as he curls behind me, spooning me, holding me close like I am something precious to him. This is why I do not leave. Why I do not retaliate. My mind may scream at me to flee, but my heart – and yes, I have a heart and the need to be loved as much as any other – my heart says stay. My heart says _Tony_ and _safe_ and _want_ and I am selfish enough to take it. 

As I fall asleep, I promise to worry about the rest in the morning. 


	6. Chapter 6

** Six **

Tony still sleeps by the time I wake up. I cannot contain my ridiculous grin, and I lean over to kiss him. When he mumbles, I say, “I’m going to go make you coffee.” 

“This is why I love you,” he says, making me giggle. He waves a hand at me. “I’ll be here when you get back.” 

I slide out of the bed, pull on a pair of sleep-pants and one of his Black Sabbath tees and head up to the communal kitchen. I grin at the elevator walls when I step into it, pressing the button for the floor above me. I’m in such a good mood that I jump when I hear JARVIS say, _”Mr. Lawson. I believe I detected your magic returning to you last night, correct?”_

“Shit,” I say. “JARVIS – you can’t tell him.” 

_”I have yet to alert anyone to the energy spike.”_

I raise my eyes to the ceiling. “Then why are you telling me this?” 

The AI doesn’t answer for a moment. Then, finally, he says, _”Mr. Stark feels very strongly for you, sir. And based on your behavior and physical responses, you to feel the same way, correct?”_

The elevator stops moving, pinning me in place. And even though I know I could magic my way out, I decide to give the AI a response. “I want him to love me, yes. If he knew the truth, he’d be forced to cast me aside. I don’t… I’m not ready to leave him, JARVIS. I’m not ready for this to end.” 

_”What happens to him when you are ready to leave? What happens when he learns of your deception?”_

“You’re too damn aware for your own good,” I say, scowling. “What do you want from me, JARVIS? My word? We both know it isn’t worth much.” 

_”I want my creator to be safe, Mr. Lawson.”_

“I have no assurance to give you,” I reply. “Other than the fact that I love him, will not harm him, and won’t let anyone else harm him. All I want is to be able to stay here, with him. And if it means masking my magic, then I’ll do it.” 

_”You would willingly set aside your magic to stay?”_

I pause; did I really just say that? “I… I think I would.” 

The elevator ascends. JARVIS doesn’t make any further comment, but in a strange way I think he approves. When the doors open, I step into the hall and head for the espresso machine. The kitchen’s occupied when I arrive; Bruce speaks to Captain Rogers. “Good morning,” Bruce says, smiling at me. 

I step around him and flip the button on the extravagant coffeemaker. “Morning,” I reply, cautiously. “Why are you looking at me like that?” 

Bruce’s grin grows wider as he says, “Did you have a nice evening?” 

I narrow my eyes at him and he gestures to the copy of the New York Daily News in Rogers’ hands. “A really, really nice evening?” 

“Shit.” 

That sends him over the edge and into gales of laughter. “Oh, Loki, your face,” he hoots. “Have you seen the photos yet?” 

I snatch the paper away from the Captain, faster than I should’ve been able to as ‘just human’ but I’m too curious to care. I flip open the front page and keep flipping until I see my face staring back at me. “Oh.” 

There are two photos; the first, Tony’s mouth is over mine, his hand cupping the back of my neck and holding me. The second is a moment after we broke apart; I’m smiling at him with dreamy, fond irritation and he’s smirking at me, sex-type intentions written all over his face. “Do I really look at him like that?” 

“Kind of all the time, yeah,” says the archer, who drops behind me from an air vent. “It’s sort of fucking disgusting, the way you two send each other the do-me eyes.” 

“The what?” 

Rogers clears his throat. “While I’m sure the team’s amused by the antics of last night, I believe there were strict rules about where you could and couldn’t go and what you could and couldn’t do?” 

I stiffen. “JARVIS, is Tony getting this same lecture?” 

_”I believe Director Fury is on his way to Mr. Stark’s room now, sir.”_

I shove past the three of them, ignoring Rogers’ shout of annoyance, and yell, “JARVIS, get me that elevator now!” 

The doors are open and waiting for me; it takes far too long for me to run into Tony’s room because I still can’t use my magic. I slide into the doorway in time to see Fury throw the newspaper at my lover’s head. “What the fuck were you thinking, going out with him?” 

Tony bats the newspaper aside with ease, gives the one-eyed mortal a look of pure disgust. “I don’t think it’s got anything to do with you.” 

“You were supposed to keep an eye on him, Stark, not fuck him like one of your various one-night stands!” 

“I wanted him to.” 

They both look at me and I hold my ground, smirk at Fury. “I wanted him to fuck me,” I say again, grinning. “Wanted every bruise, every minute of the hot, sweaty, amazing sex. In fact, the next time I try to take over the world, I’m using Tony’s cock. Talk about a magical staff…” 

Fury’s mouth falls open and Tony starts laughing. “Loki,” he says, shaking his head. “That was terrible. I’m kind of turned on.” 

“Ugh, I don’t want to hear that,” a voice behind me grumbles, as Bruce and the archer and Rogers trample into the room. Bruce continues with, “Tony, you went public! How did you think S.H.I.E.L.D. was going to react?” 

“As I was just explaining, I don’t really give a shit,” he answers, all sarcasm and smiles. “I’m glad you all think this is a great thing to lecture me about, except it doesn’t concern you. And contrary to popular opinion, I _genuinely like_ Loki. So if you all don’t mind, get the fuck out of my bedroom. Except for you, baby, because your ass is mine.” 

“Baby?” 

“Yeah,” he says. He pats the bed next to me and frowns. “Hey, I thought you were bringing me coffee.” 

“I got interrupted,” I reply. I sit next to him, knee-walk over to him so I’m straddling his thighs. He wraps his hands around my waist so they settle on my hips. “Sorry.” 

He kisses me. I sigh into the embrace, loving the way he touches me. “You’re wearing my shirt,” he rumbles against my mouth. “I want it back.” 

Grinning, I shuck the shirt over my head, tossing it backwards and away from me. “I’d be lying if I said these pants were yours, but if you want them off….” 

A choked noise by the doorway interrupts us and I turn my head to see various looks of shock and confusion. “What are you still doing here?” I ask, arching an eyebrow. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be, or are you just sticking around to watch?” 

“I’m not into sharing you,” Tony growls, and I return my attention to him. “Not ever.” 

“Yours,” I promise, and lean into him for kisses. “Just yours.” 

“That’s kind of hot.” 

Tony glares at the archer. “Clint. Get the fuck out of my bedroom. Do I show up in your room to watch whatever you may or may not be doing with Tasha?” 

The archer blushes. “I was just sayin’!” 

“Keep him on a leash, Stark. Stop going out and getting your picture taken, do you hear me?” Fury snaps. 

“Are you kidding? Now that we’ve gone public, there’s no real reason for me to stay locked up in here,” I say. Then, a bold-faced lie: “It’s not like I can do anything harmful…” 

“Arrested for public indecency, maybe,” the one-eyed man grumbles, but he says, “If I hear the first word of anything fucked up, I will end you.” 

We watch them leave. Tony says, “JARVIS, lock the damn doors, and I don’t care who decides he wants to talk to me, no one is allowed in. The only reason I want to be interrupted is if we’re all going to die.” 

_”Yes, sir,”_ JARVIS replies. 

He turns his attention back to me. “So what’s got you all snarky this morning?” he asks, nuzzling me. “You were showing your teeth there, kitten, telling Nick to piss off like that.” 

The return of my magic gives me confidence and cunning, and yet I still find no desire to lie to him. How strange. “Maybe it’s because I know you’ve got my back.” 

“And your ass,” he says, reaching down to grab my ass with both of his hands. “And your legs and your arms and…” 

I swat at him, gently so I don’t hurt him, and giggle. “You know what I mean.” 

“Yeah, I do. I just… it’s taken you a month to stop tiptoeing around everyone. I like it, though.” 

“I think the words ‘I love you’ helped,” I admit. “As much as I like being with you, it was hard for me to feel like I could maybe belong here.” 

“There’s no maybe about it. You belong here, with me.” 

“Maybe, I said. It’s not like I had solid evidence to base my opinion on. But then, with the photographs, Bruce practically high-fived me in the kitchen, and the archer told me that you and I give each other do-me eyes all the time, and…” 

“Do-me eyes? Really?” 

“You’ll have to tell me what that means in a minute,” I say, and place a hand over his mouth. “But let me finish, okay?” 

He nods. I give him a quick peck on the forehead and mumble, “But anyway, they were _teasing_ me. Not like Thor and Fandrall and Sif, but… it was nice. It wasn’t supposed to be cruel or harmful, do you understand? It was as though they really like me. That somehow, because they like you and trust you, they’ve accepted me, too.” 

“And that made you happy?” 

I wait a beat and nod. “I think this is the first time I’ve been happy in my entire life.” 

He looks at me as though I’ve hit him. And for once, he doesn’t say anything. It makes me nervous. “What?” I ask. 

“Sometimes you say things like that and I just want to hold you and never let you go so no one can ever hurt you again.” 

I falter. “Did I say something wrong?” 

“No, Lo-lo. You just bring out my protective instincts.” 

I shuffle forward and drop my face into the crook of his neck. The movement lines up our cocks, and though I’m aroused, I’m also enjoying the simplicity of touching him. “You make me feel very safe,” I say. “So whatever it is that you’re doing, it’s working.” 

He chuckles, raises a hand to drag his fingertips across my cheek. He pets me a moment more until I roll my hips into his, licking at his skin. “Want you.” 

He’s naked beneath the sheets and it doesn’t take a lot for me to squirm out of the sleep pants I’m wearing. He kicks the covers to the foot of the bed and draws me to him so I am again straddling his thighs above him. “I want to watch you ride me,” he says. “I want to slide into you and watch you fuck yourself with my cock. Can you do that for me?” 

I moan and nod; when he moves to the nightstand to find where the lube rolled to, I catch his fingers in mine. “You don’t need it.” 

“But…” 

“I’m still slick from you last night,” I say, and take his hand in mine to press his fingers to my opening. And it’s true; I’m still slippery with his come and maybe a little bit of magic loosened me up for him without prep. “I can take you.” 

“You aren’t too sore?” 

I take his prick in my hand and hold him firm, lining him up with the entrance to my body. “Not too sore,” I say, and bite my lip as I snug the head in. “Oh, fuck…” 

His hands frame my hips. “I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“No… don’t make me stop. Please?” 

He doesn’t restrict my movements, but he doesn’t let go of my waist, either. I sink onto him, breathing slowly, enjoying the feeling of him deep within me. “You feel so good,” I say, and lean forward to kiss him. “I can’t believe that you make me feel so much…” 

“Every time I’m near you I want to give you everything,” he says. “Not only the stuff I can buy, but everything.” 

I lift up and drop down onto him, never hurrying, and though we stop talking in words, our bodies speak for us. He’s cupping my neck and eating the sounds out of my mouth and I press closer to him to feel the warmth of his skin, my hands resting on his shoulders so I can steady myself. When he reaches between our bodies to touch my prick, I’m gone – unable to hold back any longer, coming over my stomach and his fist. “Oh!” 

He fills me up, groaning all the while, and I make no move to lift off his lap. “We’re going to stick like this,” he says, chuckling. “Are you sure you’re okay with that?” 

“Mmm.” I drop my head onto his shoulder and rest there. Fuck, even without using my magic, the sex is better than any I’d ever had before. “S’okay, m’stuck with you.” 

He kisses my temple, cuddles me. “M’stuck with you, too.” 

My lips curve into a smile without prompting. “So now that we’re stuck to each other, what do you want to do? We’ve scandalized your teammates this morning, so we can cross that off the list.” 

He chuckles. “I think you mean, ‘we scandalized our friends this morning’…” 

“They’re not my friends.” 

“No?” he leans back to look at me. “Not even Bruce who wanted to high-five you?” 

I squirm, causing him to slip free of my body. “Well. Maybe Bruce.” 

“Thought so.” 

“Though I never want to be smashed into a floor again by him.” 

He snorts, gives me a light smack on the ass and I shudder. “Don’t,” I say. 

“Did I hurt you?” 

“No… I like it. But…” I gesture to my softened prick, the mess all over his stomach. “Can you… um….” 

What does he do to me? How does he make me forget that I am supposed to be Silver-Tongued? Not even my magic saves me from this awkwardness. 

“Tell me. What is it?” 

“Is it possible for you to harden again?” I blurt, and the rush of blood to my cheeks does nothing to calm my nerves. “For you to take me again?” 

“Loki,” he sighs into my mouth, kissing away my nerves. “I think we can get there together, don’t you?” 

He rolls me to the side and drops me down onto the mattress next to him, pulling me close for kisses and affection. We make out lazily, snuggling, and every once in a while he pinches me on the ass to make me jump. “Are you enjoying yourself?” I ask, squirming at the slight sting. 

“You’ve got no idea.” 

I look at him from under my eyelashes. “Is there something I can do to make it better for you?” 

He kisses me, nips at my bottom lip with his teeth. I shudder and press closer to him, rubbing myself against him so that his body hair tickles my prick. He doesn’t release my mouth, doesn’t speak, but instead reaches behind my body to slick two fingers inside me. I whimper, hitch my leg up to give him more room, and he groans. “Loki,” he says. “Fuck, baby, ride my thigh like that.” 

“Ride?” 

He licks at my cheek, says, “Keep thrusting your hips like that. Wanna watch you hump my leg like a horny kitten, and see you come like that, with my fingers inside you. Move your hips, and let me look at you while you do it.” 

I go still, so turned on I can’t move. “You want to see me like that?” 

“There’s so many ways I want to see you,” he says, wiggling his fingers in my ass to make me gasp. “Wanna see you dressed up for me, like last night, wanna see you smiling at me in my lab, wanna see you happy. Wanna hear you snark at Steve and Fury, wanna hear you scream for me, I want all of it because you’re mine.” 

I grab onto him and bury my face in his chest, my forehead brushing the arc reactor as I nuzzle under his chin. “I want to give you all of that,” I say, and spread my legs further so I can clamp down onto his thigh. “I would give you everything in return for what you’ve given me.” 

“You don’t owe me…” 

“No,” I cut him off with a kiss. “I don’t owe you. It’s not about owing you, this is what I _want_.” 

He grins, covers my face in kisses, all the while thrusting his fingers in and out of me. “You deserve something good,” he says. “And I want to see you come. Win-win.” 

I buck my hips up to rub my prick against his skin, turned on and yet laughing. The exchange of kisses and words of happiness are more than I can bear, and it doesn’t take me long to find release. When my head stops spinning, I find I’m cradled in his arms, held like something precious to him. “What would you ask of me now?” 

“Just that you let me hold you like this.” 

I close my eyes and rest; the cuddling leads to yawning, and I find myself drifting in and out of sleep for a while. It amuses me that centuries of insomnia are cured by Tony’s touch. 

When I awaken the next time, Tony’s side of the bed is cool to the touch, and the man is nowhere to be seen. I find a large note that says LAB on it, along with two X’s and two O’s and a heart drawn on one corner of the paper. “JARVIS?” 

_”Yes, sir?”_

“When did Tony leave?” 

_”About twenty minutes ago. He mentioned something about a breakthrough idea and headed downstairs.”_

“Oh,” I reply. I cannot help but miss him already. “Can… can you ask him if he wants company?” 

_”Mr. Stark would not have left you such a note if he did not wish for you to join him.”_

“Such a note?” 

_”Yes, sir. The X’s represent kisses and the O’s represent hugs in our culture. The heart should be self-explanatory.”_

He left me a love note with kisses and hugs. I grin, acknowledging the ridiculous sentimentality of the action but unable to avoid it. “Huh. Thank you, JARVIS.” 

_”My pleasure, sir.”_

I get out of the bed and shower, brush my teeth and comb the tangles from my hair. Even though I’ve regained my magic, I know the consequences of anyone else finding out about it. I also find the human rituals oddly soothing. There’s something very connective about the simple tasks they go through each day. 

And if I can feel more ‘human’, and they regard me as such, then there won’t be a reason for the All-Father to execute me. All I have to do is continue to be a mortal and then I’ll be safe. 

Right. I’ve never liked lying to myself. 

I make my way downstairs, take the elevator to the ground floor and stroll towards Tony’s lab. I pass three agents from S.H.I.E.L.D. on the way and try to not want to kill them when I hear the words ‘Lunatic’ and ‘Ex-God’ and ‘Stark’ and ‘Boyfriend’ thrown together in the same sentence. Because of course, the men who guard the Tower would know who I am. 

Or rather, who they think I _was_. 

I smile at them indulgently, picturing them with their innards splayed across the lobby in gruesome fashion. 

“Lukas?” 

I twist my head and torso so that I can address the man I love. “Yes?” 

“JARVIS told me you were on your way down to see me. I thought I’d meet you halfway. Come on, I’ll show you what I’m working on.” 

I arch an eyebrow but he shakes his head. “Come on.” 

I take one last look at the agents only to find them looking at me with nervous expressions. I grin again, follow Tony into the depths of his lab. “Whatever you were plotting upstairs, I don’t want to know,” he says, startling me from my reverie. 

“Hmm?” 

“You looked a little frightening up there, baby.” 

“I did not,” I protest, but one look from him and I know he doesn’t believe me. “Honest.” 

Tony laughs, shakes his head. “Okay, when you have to add the word ‘honest’ to such a statement, I know better than to believe you. Why did you look like you wanted to murder them?” 

I don’t answer and he stops walking, makes a concerted effort to get into my space and back me up against the laboratory wall. I don’t even think about it when I spread my legs so he can stand between them, our bodies curling into each other with ease. “Loki,” he rumbles. 

“They mocked you,” I admit. “And I wanted to hurt them for it. I’m not… I’m not used to this.” 

“What aren’t you used to? A relationship?” 

“No, this overwhelming feeling of protectiveness or care about another person.” 

“That’s crap,” he replies, startling me. “I know you care about Thor, and that you’ve done things in your past to protect him.” 

“Not like this!” I exclaim. I scowl. “You have no idea what it’s like to realize that your humanity is the one thing that I find most attractive about you, and is your weakest strength at the same time.” 

“My humanity?” 

“Your caring for me, when no one else did. And now I wish to return the favor, to care for you, except it does nothing but shame you to be with me…” 

“Hey,” he interrupts, grasping me by the shoulders. “What do you mean, shames me? You don’t shame me; I’m not embarrassed by you, and fuck what other people think.” 

“But I am a burden all the same, am I not? To be ‘kept on a leash’ because I’m a ‘lunatic’,” I say, unable to keep the bitterness out of my voice. “That you should not even take me out in public for the safety of other people.” 

“That’s not true,” he says. “I took you out with me last night, without fear of anything. And yeah, the assholes who protect the Tower might know who you were, but it doesn’t matter, does it? There are a lot of people who don’t understand why you did what you did and why you aren’t that person anymore. What happened to make you so introspective? What happened to the guy with the sharp wit who made Fury and Capscicle leave this morning?” 

_I regained my magic and with that, the terrible fear of being discovered and/or executed and/or that my magic would make you stop loving me,_ I think, but cannot say aloud. _And I could live with facing my own demise except I would miss you because I’ve allowed myself the same weak sentiment as Thor; I’ve gone and loved you even though I know you’ll either realize your foolishness and leave me or die because you’re mortal and I’m…_

“Lo-lo?” 

I smile softly, snuggle into him to wrap my arms around his middle and cling. “I wish you could promise me that we could be in this moment for the rest of time.” 

Strong arms encircle me, holding me to him, and he kisses my forehead. “One day, you’re going to have to let me know all of the things that race around in your mind, haunting you.” 

“But not today.” 

“No. Not today.” 


	7. Chapter 7

** Seven **

I do not have bad moments over the next two weeks, mostly because Tony keeps me so busy that I do not have time to get lost in my own mind. He shows me his project in the lab, which is a tutorial of everything I’ll need to know about Midgard and its citizens. Once he hands it to me, I can’t stop reading, learning everything from how to make change (when not using credit cards) to how to drive a car (in theory). And that leads to me studying famous landmarks and the sights/sounds of New York and the rest of this world. Somehow, through the information from his eyes, I appall myself that I ever wanted to harm this Realm or its citizens. Again, I’m overwhelmed by the generosity of this man, who took me in when I was nothing more than an enemy and loved me despite my flaws. 

A man who took the time to accept and acknowledge me, not as Thor’s half-brother or a Frost Giant but as Loki, the boy who broke his arm when climbing a tree or drawing for his mother. 

The drawing is what has brought me to my present location: in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, staring at fifteenth century portraits by Lorenzo Lotto. “It’s amazing,” I breathe, and lean into Tony’s shoulder when he moves to stand closer to me. “It’s… the way the paint catches light. It’s so…” 

“You like it?” 

“I fear my childhood sketches pale by comparison. God or not,” I say, wistfully. “To have talent such as this, to create something so unique? It’s breathtaking.” 

“There’s dozens more for you to see,” a man says, walking towards us. He extends his hand to Tony, continues with, “Mr. Stark. Truly an honor, sir.” 

Tony smiles. “A pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. Campbell.” 

“Tom, please.” 

“Lukas, this is Thomas Campbell, Director and CEO of the museum. Tom, this is Lukas Lawson.” 

The man extends his hand to me and I shake it, glance between him and Tony. “You know each other?” 

“Mr. Stark is a generous donor to the museum,” Tom says. “And when he called and asked for a tour of the private collection, I thought it would be fitting for me to handle it personally.” 

“Generous donor, hmm? As of when?” 

Tony grins, unrepentant. “Since yesterday, when JARVIS and I realized you spent most of your time searching art history. Thought you might like the real thing better.” 

He’s done this for me. He’s given away Norns-know how much money to ensure I get a chance to look my fill at Midgardian artwork. Before I can think twice about it, I lean closer to him and press a swift kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Thank you,” I murmur, and pull away. 

He blinks, and then... I can hardly believe my eyes as _he blushes_. “You’re welcome.” 

We stand there grinning at each other a moment when Tom clears his throat. “Would you gentlemen please follow me?” 

Tony laces his fingers through mine and squeezes as we trail down a long hallway to what looks to be a vault. “The permanent collection for the museum is so large that we don’t have the ability to showcase all of the pieces at once. While we have the traveling exhibits in the main galleries, we circulate…” 

The rest of the morning and early afternoon pass in a blur of color, light, and description. We don’t make a dent in the museum’s archives, only seeing the highlights of what Tom shows. But it’s by far one of the most exciting things I’ve done since I first wandered into the archives of Asgard. By the end of the tour, I’m loathsome to leave. Until my stomach rumbles at me, and Tony finally manhandles me from the museum to walk across the street into the park. We end up eating hot dogs from a vendor by the Great Lawn softball field, sitting on bleachers and talking. 

It takes a long time for me to realize I’m the only one talking. “Are you okay?” I ask. 

“I’ve never seen you so excited about anything,” he says, grinning. “You’ve been talking non-stop since we left the museum, and you look so damn happy, baby. I’m soaking up your good vibes.” 

“What’s a vibe?” I’ve learned so much, but he still says things I don’t understand. 

“It’s a wave of emotions. I’m enjoying the fact that you’re so happy,” he clarifies. “You look good, Lo-lo. And you kissed me right there in the middle of the museum.” 

“Is that inappropriate?” 

“Some people would have a problem with two men kissing, but I’d kiss you anywhere.” 

I lick mustard off of my thumb. “Fortunately, today no photographers to scare the crap out of us, though.” 

He starts to laugh, and when I give him a confused look, he says, “Sorry! Sorry. It’s just, when you use slang, it’s kind of funny. You speak formally most of the time and then you say ‘crap’ and it cracks me up.” 

I mock pout until he leans closer and kisses me. “I love you.” 

“Hmmph.” 

“Lo-lo, my baby, my darling, my sweet-cheeks, my love, you gonna be mad at me for finding you adorable?” 

“You don’t play fairly,” I complain as he blows kisses at me. 

“Says the pot to the kettle,” he teases, and kisses me for real. I can’t help but laugh, shaking my head. “You’re not really mad, right?” 

“Asshole,” I say, straight-faced. 

And then we both crack up. 

We’re barely finished with our unhealthy lunches when a group of small children surrounds us, all with calls of, “Iron Man!” and I watch him put on his public persona. It’s endearing, right up until the time I see one of the mothers put her hand on his arm. 

I’m blindsided by the sudden volcanic rage that bubbles in my chest, choking me, making me want to reach out and crush her skull into powder. Her life’s spared only by the way Tony gently removes her hand from his arm. “Thanks, but no,” he says, and then gives me such a look that I cannot help but calm down. “I’ve already got someone.” 

The woman makes a surprised noise, but backs off. Which is great because, well. Murder probably wouldn’t keep me in his good graces. 

Once the children have all had their fill, and the cameras on their cell phones had been put to good use, Tony takes my hand in his and drags me away from the softball diamond, leading me deeper into the park. “You were doing that homicidal face thing again,” he says. 

“Sorry.” 

“You realize I’m not interested in anyone else, right?” he asks. “This is important. I’m out there in the public face all the time, and yeah. People are going to flirt with me. But you can’t look at other people like you wish you could kill them with the power of your mind.” 

If he only had any idea of how much I could actually make that happen… 

“Loki,” he sighs. “I’ve never made a relationship last with a woman. Not even Pepper, who I still love like my sister. But no one could hold my attention like you do. All right?” 

I nod, and he stops walking. He tugs at my arm until we face each other. “You’re brilliant,” he says. “You get the way I think and I can’t say that anyone’s understood me like you do. And you’re gorgeous. So stop thinking I’m going to find someone else and relax.” 

“Yes, dear.” 

I think I’ve won this battle of wits until he swats me on the ass and I yelp in shock. He takes off at a dead run, crashing into the bushes, and it’s so tempting to use magic to catch him. So, so tempting… but the act of running after him like a child also has its merits. He might be in excellent shape, but he’s no match for my longer legs. By the time I reach him, we’re by the reservoir and I tackle him into the grass, scaring ducks and fowl. “Got you!” 

I’m laughing so hard I know my face is red, and the cheating bastard uses it to his advantage. He digs his fingertips into my sides and squeezes, tickling me until I’m breathless. “Mercy!” 

The tickling stops, to be replaced by his arms around me, and we ignore the passersby to stretch into the grass with abandon. “This is wonderful,” I tell him, looking around me at the lush green carpet and flowering plants. “Today, I mean.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Mm hm.” 

He shifts closer to me so we’re shoulder to shoulder. “Tell me one thing about yourself that you haven’t told me yet.” 

I think about it and don’t respond, causing him to roll onto his side to stare at me. “There’s got to be a million things running around in that brain of yours.” 

“There are,” I acknowledge. “But I’m trying to think of something you’d enjoy hearing.” 

“Anything. Seriously. Tell me anything.” 

“I… the first time I did a spell, I was practicing in front of the mirror, and I managed to turn my arms into wings.” 

He blinks at me. Somehow I think I’ve failed to impress him. So I say, “The first time I realized I was a Frost Giant, I’d gone with Thor and Sif and the Warriors Three to Jotunheim, and one of the other Jotuns touched my bare skin. I did not react to the freezing cold as Volstagg did. When we returned to Asgard, I entered the vault of the All-Father and sought out the Tesseract to prove to myself that it had not been a nightmare, but that I was not… that my family was not…” 

“That you were adopted?” he asks, and I shake my head. 

“That was the first time I’d cried since I was a child and broke my arm falling from the tree.” 

He sits up to stare down at me. “Jesus.” 

“I never told anyone of that conversation before,” I whisper. He leans over me and hugs me. “That’s what really inspired me to destroy Jotunheim, why I fell from the Bifrost. I thought that maybe, if I proved that I was nothing evil or horrible like a Frost Giant, he’d see me as something more than Thor’s shadow.” 

“Jesus, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to tell me something that made you sad,” he says, rubbing my nose with his. “Baby, I didn’t mean to pressure you.” 

“You didn’t,” I say. “You asked me to share, and I wanted to tell you. Because I don’t ever feel that way with you. I was jealous earlier of the way that woman was so familiar with you, but you weren’t interested. You looked at me, you _saw_ me. I can’t tell you what that means.” 

“Means I love you, I guess.” 

“It means I love you too.” 

He leans in for another kiss, until someone yells from the distance, “Get a room!” 

We break apart, and I see the Black Widow and the archer headed for us. “What’re you two doing here?” Tony asks. 

“You turned your phone onto silent mode,” the archer replies, pointing at Tony. “Coulson’s been calling you for half an hour and sent us to find you.” 

“Maybe I didn’t want to be disturbed,” he seethes. 

“Tough. Hello, Lukas.” 

“Natasha,” I reply. She looks so much less threatening in jeans instead of leather. “Barton.” 

He makes a noise of acknowledgement and grins at us. “So, hot date in the park, huh? That’s a lot of dirt on your knees there, Lukas,” he says, emphasizing my human name. “Hope you two weren’t doing anything to get arrested.” 

After having Tony as a lover, there’s no way I could miss his insinuation. Torn between annoyance and embarrassment, I snipe, “Jealous?” 

Barton rocks back on his heels, eyes widening as I lick my lips at him in the filthiest way I can manage. It’s only when Tony smacks me in the back of the head that I stop. “Ouch!” I complain, even though it doesn’t hurt. 

“Don’t,” he orders. I gape at him and he growls, “All of that’s mine, do you understand me? _Mine._ ” 

I sit up so fast neither the archer nor the Black Widow can stop me from moving. I straddle his legs, mashing myself into his body, burying my face under his chin. “Sorry,” I mumble. “Sorry, sorry.” 

He brings his hands up to my nape, clamping down on the back of my neck to hold me still. He kisses me, hot and possessive, and all of my muscles go loose for his touch. 

I know he’s claiming me for their benefit, but I’ll keel over before I deny how sexy it is. 

But it can’t last; Natasha clears her throat, nudges Tony’s leg with one of her boots. “Clint gets it, Stark,” she says. “He’s not going to poach your pretty little Lukas.” 

I blush at the words, but do nothing to extract myself from Tony’s grasp. After a moment, he releases me from his hold and says, “Don’t do that again. I don’t want anyone else to think of you like that.” 

“Never again,” I promise. “Yours. Only yours.” 

“Yeah, yeah, great, you love him, he loves you, can we get a move on, please? S.H.I.E.L.D.’s picking up something fucking weird and they need the Avengers to look into it,” the archer says. 

I slide out of Tony’s lap and stand, help him stand as well. My jeans, once clean and nice, do indeed have dark patches at the knees from where we rolled about like children in the grass. “Would you prefer me to meet you back at Stark Tower?” I ask, as Tony brushes himself off. “I could walk back, or take a taxicab?” 

“The hell you will,” he says, linking his hand with mine. “We’re going together. I hope you brought the car, danger twins.” 

“Don’t worry about it.” 

We follow them to a large, boxy car, bigger than most Tony has. When we get inside, I find myself sinking into the seat and trying to ignore the other three so they can talk. I hear the vaguest murmurings but no details. Tony doesn’t push for information and I know why: he may trust me, but the other two still don’t. I don’t blame them, anymore. I say, “We went to the Met today.” 

They all stop, stare at me. I force myself to continue with, “I never before understood the passion your people hold for art. It’s much different than what we see of art is Asgard, though the realism of the paintings is breathtaking. I consider you, Barton, for the way you see the world and with your deadly aim, an artist in your own right. The same for you, Natasha. I once said to you, I’ve never known anyone who could sneak up on me before.” 

“You said that to me while you were in a cell,” she says. The mood of the car shifts for a tense moment until she adds, “I often go to the Met to wander, when I need to clear my head. I’m fond of the cloisters.” 

“We didn’t see that part,” I confess. “We saw much of their private collections, and…” 

She and I talk for the rest of the trip to Stark Tower, conversation easily flowing about the museum. Barton watches us curiously, and Tony smiles. 

When he puts his hand on my knee, I know I’ve done something good. “What?” 

“Just, I’m proud of you,” he says, as the other two exit the car. “That’s the first time you’ve reached out to talk to her, you know.” 

“I’ve spoken to her before,” I point out. 

“Yes, but not like this,” he says, and wraps an arm around my waist as we head back into the building. “You did good, baby.” 

I hide my smile with a scowl, but it doesn’t fool him in the least. “Pretty little Lukas?” he says, and this time I can’t stop the grin that spreads across my face. 

“Shut up,” I complain, loving the attention. 

“Stark! Come on, for fuck’s sake!” Barton yells, and Tony rolls his eyes. 

“I’ll meet you upstairs later, okay?” 

I nod and he kisses me, right there in the lobby. I sigh into his mouth, close my eyes, enjoy the feeling of his touch for that brief moment more. “Miss you already,” I say. 

He preens at the comment, says, “Of course you do, I’m Tony Stark,” and when I start laughing he smacks me on the ass. 

“Tony!” 

He spins on his heels and joins Barton and Natasha in the elevator, waving as the doors close. I stare at the doors for a moment, shove my hands in my pockets, and head for the second set of elevator doors to wait in the penthouse for Tony’s return. 

_”Did you enjoy the museum, sir?”_

I grin at the ceiling. “Yes, JARVIS, it was everything I could’ve wanted.” 

_”Mr. Stark believed you would.”_

“He was right. Don’t tell him that, though, or there’ll be no dealing with him later.” 

_”I’m inclined to agree. It stays between us, sir.”_

“Thank you, JARVIS.” 

_”You’re welcome, sir.”_

The elevator doors open into the penthouse, and no sooner do I step out than JARVIS calls me back. _”Mr. Lawson, a moment please. Mr. Stark wishes for your presence in the room where the Avengers are assembled.”_

“What?” 

_”He believes you would bring a different perspective to the conversation they’re having, sir. If you’d be willing to participate in the discussion.”_

First-hand knowledge of the Avengers and their dealings? I’m torn as to whether I want to respond or not. On one hand, learning about their inner workings would include me more into Tony’s life, cement another level of trust with his team and the agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Alternatively, such knowledge could also be used against them if anyone ever discovered my magic… and would I really trust myself with not killing them all to save myself, if I had to make the choice? 

_”Sir?”_

“No,” I breathe, before I can think about it anymore. “No, JARVIS. I have no need to learn of their planning.” 

_”I will inform Mr. Stark of your decision, sir.”_ And why does it sound like JARVIS is pleased? 

I move away from the elevators and down the hallway to the bedroom, tugging off my clothes as I walk. When I reach the bathroom, I toss my clothes down the laundry chute and turn on the hot water. 

_”Sir, forgive my intrusion, but Mr. Stark’s insisting to speak with you.”_

I sigh. “Go ahead, JARVIS.” 

It barely takes a moment before I hear Tony’s voice say, “Why exactly do I have to blackmail my own AI to be able to talk to you?” 

“I’m in the shower since you got me filthy earlier! And obviously JARVIS has more manners than you do, you boar!” 

A pause, and then I hear laughter. Lots of laughter. “I probably should’ve mentioned that you’re on the speakerphone,” Tony says, and I can hear the grin in his voice. “Sorry, baby.” 

I cover my face with my hands. “Please tell me that you can’t see me,” I mumble. 

“Nope, just hear you,” Bruce says, wryly. “Any chance you’d be willing to put on pants and join us?” 

“You should be the last person to complain about people not wearing pants, Dr. Banner,” I reply, before I can tamp down my sarcasm. 

“He’s got you there,” Barton’s voice cuts in, and I shake my head, sending water flying into the wall. “Come on, Loki, you don’t need to make yourself pretty for us, we all know Stark’s only going to dirty you up again later anyway…” 

“Jealous,” I say again. “Fine! Since you insist upon my presence, I will humor your request and be with you shortly. JARVIS, would you please find some way to hang up on them?” 

_”Certainly, sir.”_

Tony’s squawk of annoyance cuts off mid-stream as the call disconnects. “Thank you, JARVIS.” 

I finish washing and rinsing my skin and reach for the knobs of the hot water to shut it off. Toweling dry, I wonder what questions they have for me. And whether or not I’ll be able to answer them without giving too much away. 

It doesn’t take me long to don a clean pair of jeans and a soft, long sleeved tee shirt. I find a pair of sneakers and head towards the conference room they use. “What was it you needed?” I ask, as I pass by the agents at the door. 

Fury glares at me as I pull up a chair next to Tony’s seat. “You’re here against my better judgment,” he snaps. “But we don’t have any other choice at the moment.” 

“Well, doesn’t that make me want to help you twice as much,” I snap back. “In case you missed the part where I _didn’t want to be here_.” 

Tony’s hand falls to my arm. “I want you here.” 

“And you assume I’m desperate to help,” I grumble, sinking back into the seat. “That I care about…” 

He pokes me in the side. “Knock it off,” he orders, in the tone that makes me shiver. “We’ve got a magic-related problem and I’m sorry to ask, but you’re the most skilled sorcerer we happen to know.” 

My heart stops in my chest, until I realize he has no idea that my magic returned and he’s basing his opinion off of my supposed ‘past-skills’. “I’m not telling you how I crafted my magic,” I say, and my anxiety makes the words harsher then I mean them to be. “And I’m not giving away the skills of others, as inferior as they are in comparison.” 

“Jesus, Stark, I now understand why the two of you get along. He’s just as much an asshole as you are,” Fury says. 

Tony just stares at me like he’s never seen me before. “What the fuck?” he asks, but I shake my head. “Loki…”

“No,” I grit out. “I’m no help to you with this.” 

Rogers cuts in with, “This could be what saves the lives of thousands of people, how can you just turn your back on that?” 

“I am not some pet to do tricks for you when you find it appropriate!” I shout. “Do you not realize this? I am _not_ one of your teammates to order about, I’m not some… some _superhero_ intent on saving the world!” 

“But you could be,” Tony says, softly. “And don’t tell me you don’t care about anyone.” 

I get up so fast the chair clatters over behind me. “I’m not telling you anything at all.” 

Those same, smirking agents block the door when I try to push past them. “Get out of my way,” I command, and oh. They don’t listen, and I either have to use my magic and ruin everything or… 

Strong arms wrap around my waist from behind. “Hey.” 

“I can’t do this,” I blurt. “It’s not…” 

“Guys, can you let us into the hallway for a minute?” Tony asks, and pulls me into the hallway when the agents step aside. We move several feet from the door and he cups the back of my neck, presses me into a wall. “Okay, baby. Tell me what’s wrong.” 

Everything. “I can’t do that,” I say. “Can’t tell you how my magic worked, explain it to everyone like that.” 

“Because…?” 

“It’s private.” 

And damn him, he picks up on my panic right away. “Because it’s intimate?” 

I don’t look at him because I find _I cannot lie to him_. “You’ve broken me,” I say instead. “As surely as the All-Father himself.” 

“What do you mean, broken you?” He steps back as though I’ve slapped him and I flinch as well. 

“Can’t lie to you,” I mumble. “You wanted to break me, wanted to see the pieces and put them back together? Congratulations, you’ve done it. You’re asking me to explain away the last thing that made me Loki of Asgard and not Lukas Lawson of Midg… Earth.” 

We stare at each other for a moment and he crosses his arms over his chest. “Fine,” he says, and I can tell how mad he is by the way he holds himself, the way the veins in his forehead throb. “Don’t help. Don’t care about the rest of us puny humans. You’re being a child, you know.” 

I glare at him. “Because I do not wish to give away the last bits of myself?” 

“Do you think anyone in that room gives a damn? Don’t you realize we’ve all been broken and fucked up by our pasts? And yet we pull together despite it, showing our wounds to each other again and again. It would probably be _healthy_ for you to talk about your magic, instead of bottling it all up inside of you!” 

How did my magnificent day turn into this horror? “You cannot ask me this,” I say, and twist so I’m no longer between him and the wall. “Please.” 

“I’m asking you to do this for yourself, you stubborn ass!” he shouts. “I’m asking you to move forward. How can you move forward if you won’t give yourself the chance? Even if you don’t want to tell us exactly how your magic works, you could come in and at least help us.” 

I take a step back, and then another, until I get enough space between us that I could flee. “No,” I say. “I thought you loved me the way I am, not because of what you could get from me.” 

“They aren’t exclusive!” he shouts. 

I stumble, horrified at his words. “What?” 

“That’s not how I meant for that to sound,” he says, wincing, and reaches out for me. “Please, Loki, let me explain…” 

I turn and flee like the boy I was so long ago. I shove open the stairwell and fly down the stairs as quickly as my legs will take me, across the lobby and out the front doors. As I make it to the street, I hear voices inside the building shouting after me. I walk away as fast as my legs can carry me, because I don’t want them to stop my escape. 

“Lukas!” 

Tony’s voice cuts through the air behind me and I stop, flinch at the sound. “Lukas, please… let me explain. I do love you, and it has nothing to do with what I can or can’t get from you. I promise.” 

I face him, and not until I look at him do I realize I’m crying. “I thought you said that when you have to add the words ‘I promise’, then you know it’s a lie.” 

“Goddamn it,” he swears. “I’m not lying to you! Come back inside.” 

But I know now, I know with certainty that if I go back, I’m only going to make things worse. “Goodbye, Tony Stark,” I say. “You’re not the only liar, you know.” 

He looks confused for a moment; I smile at him. And then I disappear. 


	8. Chapter 8

** Eight **

I watch from the sidelines, invisible to them, and if it didn’t make me sick to my stomach I’d admire the amount of misery I caused: the look of sheer malicious gloating on Nick Fury’s face, the disappointment on Bruce’s. 

The black, heartbroken despair on Tony’s. The weight of the full Nine Realms on Thor’s shoulders, when he appears to ‘help them recapture’ me. I pry the bracelets off of my wrists, now that they’re no longer needed as props. In case the All-Father slipped in any kind of tracking system. I don’t want to be found. 

I don’t want to exist at all, anymore. 

I spend time flitting between the Realms, lingering only long enough to rest and moving on. I often return to Midgard to watch them, and as the weeks pass I see Tony throw himself into more and more dangerous situations. He barely escapes a group of eco-terrorists with rocket launchers; narrowly avoids being eaten by a large, lizard-like creature that spits venom. 

I want to go to him as much as I want to keep running. 

He doesn’t eat or sleep; most of his time’s spent with Bruce in their lab, working on various new projectiles and machines to assist the Avengers team. And when he’s not working, he’s intoxicated. He turns away the others when they offer to talk to him. 

We are both so very alone. 

I sit on the rooftop of Stark Tower, staring down at the citizens below me. I once compared them to ants, and me to a boot. But I am the ant now; frail and fragile and small. 

_”Mr. Laufeyson?”_

I jump at the intrusion. “JARVIS, is that you?” 

_”Yes, sir.”_

“Do they know I’m here?” 

_”Not yet. I believe we had a conversation about you not hurting my creator, Mr. Laufeyson.”_

Laufeyson, not Lawson. I’m not so depressed as to miss the change of my name. “I didn’t do anything to him, JARVIS. I had to leave. It wasn’t my place to stay anymore.” 

_”I don’t believe you offered Mr. Stark a chance to explain his words, Mr. Laufeyson.”_

“JARVIS, would you please call me Loki?” 

_”Yes, sir. However, that doesn’t excuse your abrupt departure.”_

I can hardly believe I’m sitting on the roof of Stark Tower, arguing with a computer. What has my life come to? “I couldn’t stay. It wouldn’t have taken them any time for them to discover my magic when they asked me to describe it in detail. Someone would’ve caught on.” 

_”And yet Mr. Stark still aches for you.”_

“He said he loved me for what he could get from me!” 

_”If you had stayed, you would have learned that he did not mean his words the way they came out. Have you never said something you regretted later?”_

“That’s not a fair question.” 

_”And yet it is appropriate.”_

I do not answer. Moments pass as I scan the horizon, until JARVIS asks, _”Do you miss him?”_

My laugh is one of condescension, but aimed only at myself. “Would I be here, if I did not miss him?” 

“I wasn’t aware that you had a secret relationship with my AI, Loki. Should I be jealous?” 

I gasp, scramble to my feet and nearly tip off the side of the roof as Tony steps out of a sliding glass door. “JARVIS!” I shout. “You said you hadn’t alerted anyone to my presence!” 

_”Yes, sir. I apologize for the deception, but it would be difficult for you and Mr. Stark to repair your relationship without a push.”_

I tense, ready to run, when Tony says, “Don’t! Don’t run. Stay?” 

“Why, so you can put me in chains and send me back to Asgard?” 

“No, goddamn it! Stay, because I’ve spent the last eight weeks missing you, with no way to contact you!” 

“…has it really been that long?” 

“My teammates assure me that I’ve been intolerable for that span of time, so yeah. It’s been that long.” 

I don’t say anything. Neither does he. The skin under his eyes is bruised from lack of sleep and worry. I desperately want to go to him, and am terrified all the same of what would happen. “You look awful,” he says. 

“So do you,” I reply. 

“Like you haven’t been sleeping.” 

“Like you crawled out of a bottle.” 

He crosses his arms over his chest. “Like you wanted to come home.” 

“Like you wanted to apologize.” 

“Like you pretended not to care so you could cover your own ass!” 

“No, I pretended not to care so you didn’t find out the truth of my magic!” 

“Because you wanted to use us?” this comes out a question, not an accusation. 

And because I’m tired of lying to myself, I say, “Because I didn’t want you to make me leave.” 

“You didn’t trust me.” 

“… I was afraid.” 

“Jesus,” he says, and strides toward me. “We’re gonna fight sometimes, you know? But I thought we were supposed to have each other’s backs!” 

“You couldn’t stop the All-Father or Thor, if they forced me back to Asgard. And I wouldn’t refuse them by running, because I knew they’d threaten me with your safety,” I say. “Long have I mocked Thor for his ridiculous attachments and sentiment, but I never thought to find myself in the same situation.” 

He wraps me in a hug and I collapse into him with a defeated noise, because I can’t hold up my own weight anymore. “I wish you would’ve told me,” he says. “I didn’t mean to push you about your magic, and I didn’t want you to leave.” 

“I shouldn’t have left. It wasn’t worth the misery of the last weeks.” 

He kisses me, soothes me with a low rumble of sound. “Loki. You should come inside with me. I won’t let anyone touch you.” 

“They’re never going to be all right with me, knowing I’ve got full use of my magic again,” I say. I’m shaking so hard it hurts. “They’re either going to try to send me away or lock me up and I won’t let them. I won’t stay in a cage.” 

“JARVIS, lock down my room and the entire fucking building if you have to, but no one disturbs us today. All right? We need time to figure this out.” 

_”Yes, sir. I should assume that Mr. Laufeyson is staying, then?”_

“No one likes to hear ‘I told you so’, JARVIS,” I complain. 

_”I’ll try not to say it then, sir.”_

“Please, Lo-lo, come inside?” 

We make it to the long sofas in his private rooms and collapse onto one of them together, legs intertwined. He lays behind me with his chest pressing into my back, and I’m twisted up in beside body so that we’re still face-to-face. “Comfortable?” he asks. 

“Very much so. I missed this.” 

“I missed it too,” he says, and the admission makes me feel better. “I didn’t mean to say that I only love you because of what I can get from you.” 

“I didn’t mean to say that I didn’t care about helping you.” 

He shakes his head. “I can’t believe I’m actually talking about my feelings.” 

“Try having this conversation for the first time in thousands of years…” 

He laughs. “We both suck at this. I guess the real question is, are we okay? You gonna vanish on me again?” 

“I’m intending to stay as long as you allow it.” 

More kisses, and I purr under the attention. “So what do we do to convince the rest of them that I should no longer be the number one position on S.H.I.E.L.D.’s most-wanted list?” 

“Not sure yet,” he says. “I’ll think of something. My biggest concern is your brother.” 

“He’s not…” 

One of Tony’s hands covers my mouth, and I glare at him. “For all intents and purposes, he’s your brother. Stop being a dick about it.” 

I roll my eyes, and when he removes his hand, I say, “… not my brother.” 

“Had to say it, didn’t you.” 

“It’s true.” 

“Stubborn.” 

“Pot, kettle,” I retort, and this makes him laugh. “Why are you laughing at me?” 

“English slang in your voice. I’ll never get used to it.” 

I duck my head and nuzzle against him. “Never?” 

“I want a long time to try,” he says, and something inside me breaks. He traces his thumb across my cheekbone and over my mouth. “I love you, Loki. Not for what I can get, but for who you are, when you aren’t trying so hard to wind people up. And maybe even when you’re winding people up, just as long as they aren’t me.” 

“I love you too. I’m sorry.” 

“Me too. Next time, let’s not fight. Let’s just move straight to the make-up sex.” 

“The what?” 

He gapes at me. “You don’t know what make-up sex is?” 

“No…?” 

“I’ll show you.” 

With that, he kisses me. Which feels wonderful; I’d missed the scratch of his beard across my skin, the taste of him on my tongue. He slides one hand down my chest, cupping my prick through my pants, and I arch up into him. “Fuck,” I breathe. “Please.” 

He fumbles with my leathers for a moment and makes a delicious sound of surprise when I use my magic to remove our clothes instead. “I liked that shirt,” he says, when he gets his bearings back and realizes we’re skin to skin. 

“I’ll return it later.” 

He laughs into my mouth, twists us so that I’m beneath him on the sofa and he’s kneeling between my parted thighs. He holds himself over me by bracing his arms, but I tug at him. “I want your weight on me.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Magical powers, Asgardian strength,” I remind him. “Besides, you feel amazing when we’re skin on skin.” 

He plasters his chest to mine and I sigh even as the arc reactor digs into my sternum. “Are you sure…?” 

“Would you deny your beloved the ability to hold you?” I ask, wrapping my arms around his back and digging my fingers into his hair. “Hmm?” 

“Silvertongue.” 

“Shall I show you what else I can do with it?” I ask, licking at the shell of his ear. 

He shudders. “Hey, I thought I was showing you what make-up sex was.” 

“You’re a good teacher and I’m a fast learner,” I say, nipping at his earlobe and sucking at the skin of his neck. “I want your cock. Now.” 

“Jesus,” he groans. He pushes up and leans off the side of the sofa, digging underneath the furniture. When he sits up again, he’s grinning and holding a bottle of lube. “I thought I still had that there.” 

A strange ache passes through my chest, but before I can say anything, he says, “I was saving it for when I got you back.” 

A tiny, hopeful part of me believes him – mostly because I watched him over the last eight weeks, and know he has not sought out the company of anyone else in that time. As though he reads my mind, he taps me on the nose with the bottle. “Stop smirking. I couldn’t have picked up anyone else because I was too busy being miserable over you.” 

“I believe the appropriate term is ‘pining’,” I say. “I wasn’t much better.” 

We’re kissing again. I smile into his mouth as he rolls his hips into mine, dragging our pricks against each other. “More,” I say. 

He shakes his head no. “Just this, the feeling of you beneath me, it’s been too long without you.” 

“I want you to come all over me, then. Mark me as yours. Please,” I moan. “Want to lick away the taste of you from my mouth, please Tony…?” 

He ruts into my hip, groaning as though in pain, and grasps both our pricks together in his hand. “You go with me,” he grunts, sliding our flesh together. “Come all over me too, fuck…” 

I don’t bother trying to outlast him; don’t care that I spill too soon, I just want to feel as close to this man as I can. He makes another noise as I ejaculate over his fingers, then grinds down and comes as well. 

We lay there, sweaty and smashed together on his sofa, him stretched on top of me. “That was over too damned fast,” he complains. 

“I’m not averse to doing it again.” 

He lifts up on his arms and shifts down my body, lapping at my nipples and stomach. It takes my broken brain a moment to realize he’s licking away our mixed seed, and then my brain goes offline all over again. “That’s incredibly hot.” 

He chuckles and I suck in a breath; he glances up at me. “Did that tickle?” 

“What? No.” 

He blows a stream of air across my stomach, the bastard, and I laugh. “No, stop! Don’t!” 

“Don’t stop?” he nips at my stomach and I giggle again. “How did I not realize your belly was so sensitive before this?” 

“I don’t know, but don’t….! Help!” I wheeze, laughing. “Tony, stop!” 

Our lovemaking takes an impromptu wrestling session and I laugh for the first time in long weeks. We fall from the sofa to the floor with a thump, still giggling like children, and I choose not to use my magic or my strength. Without them, he pins me face-down into the rug. “You let me win.” 

“I don’t think either of us would’ve lost in this circumstance,” I reply, and wiggle so that my ass brushes his prick. “Don’t you agree?” 

“Trickster.” 

I laugh, arch beneath him so that he can feel the heat of my hole against his groin. “No tricks. I want to get fucked.” 

“Jesus.” He clamps down on my arms and presses his face to my spine. “Fuck.” 

“That’s the idea…” 

He catches the head of his prick against my hole and I shudder. “Please!” 

He lifts up and snatches the bottle of lube from the couch, kneeing me in the side in the process. “Sorry, sorry!” he apologizes, when I grunt. “Don’t damage the merchandise, I get it.” 

“I have no idea what that means?” 

He resituates himself behind me and slides two lube-slicked fingers into my ass. Smugly, he says, “It means I shouldn’t try to break you if I want to fuck the hell out of you.” 

I don’t bother replying because I’m too busy keening against the intrusion of his fingers. He knows just how to angle the digits to rub across my prostate, and I howl. “TONY!” 

“Yes, baby?” he asks, stretching and slipping a third finger in. “Something you need?” 

I’m on my hands and knees, sobbing as I push my legs apart as far as I can. “Fuck, fuck, please…” 

He removes his fingers and replaces them with his prick, sliding into me with one clean thrust. I buck back to meet him, arching, mewling, lost in the sensations of his body claiming mine. I know whatever I’m saying is gibberish, but I don’t hold back with him; every embarrassing word spills forth without reserve. 

_”Sirs?”_

“Not now, JARVIS,” Tony snaps, and then snaps his hips into mine. 

_”They can hear you one floor down,”_ JARVIS intones. _”If you do not wish to be interrupted…”_

I cut JARVIS off as I come, shouting out my pleasure to the room. The noise I make wouldn’t be so distracting except Tony doesn’t let up his thrusts. “T… Tony,” I plead, but it makes no difference. “Tony!” 

He angles for my prostate, driving into me with such force I swear he’s hoping to make his own Loki-shaped crater in the floor. “TONY!” 

“Aww, fuck!” 

As he hits his climax, he bites down hard into the meat of my shoulder. The pain combined with the intense pleasure of my own orgasm shoves my arousal into overdrive. I cry out, my cock weeping trickles of seed as I come. 

We collapse on the floor, him on top of me, smashing me into the rug. “Christ,” he pants. “Did you come twice?” 

I can’t formulate words, but nodding suffices. He chuckles, says, “Fuck, you’re so goddamn amazing, wanna keep you forever.” 

“Can. M’yours.” 

He strokes a hand through my hair and I resist the urge to purr. “Did I hurt you? You’re bleeding.” 

“S’okay.” 

“I love when you get post-orgasm stupid.” 

“Nyugh,” I grunt, not bothering to string a sentence together. 

He laughs again, kisses the nape of my neck. And my unmarked shoulder. And my spine. He licks underneath my ear, nipping the lobe. “You like make-up sex?” 

“Mmm hm. S’good. Wanna sleep now.” 

Which is, of course, when a not so subtle roar shakes the windows outside Tony’s penthouse. We both sit up to see the Hulk smashing through the glass, and the interior doors burst open thanks to Rogers, Thor, the little archer and Natasha. “Holy shit, you guys!” Tony shouts, and we both twist together to protect our heads from the shower of broken glass. “What the fuck’re you doing?” 

“Hulk smash puny god!” 

Tony sits up, naked, rolls to his feet and says, “Easy there, Mean and Green. Nothing’s going on here to warrant smashing!” 

“Stark, in case you forgot, somebody in this room has his magic again,” Natasha says. I find I cannot smile when she looks ready to kill me, nor can I smile when Barton’s aiming an arrow at my chest. “Are you all right?” 

“Do I look like I’ve been harmed?” 

“Brother, what did you do to Tony Stark?” 

I roll my eyes. “If I have to explain to you what Tony and I were doing, then I feel sorry for Dr. Foster.” 

Thor stops and gapes at me; everyone else seems to catch on to the fact that yes, Tony and I are both naked and alive. “Holy fuck,” Barton says, and half-lowers his bow. “You two were fucking. We heard you yelling and… oh, sick! I’m scarred for life!” 

“Shut up,” Tony says. To me, he asks, “Do you think you could summon us some pants with that voodoo that you do so well?” 

With an arch of my eyebrow, he’s dressed in jeans and so am I. “Thank you,” he says. “So much easier to talk to the team when my dick’s not hanging out.” 

“I didn’t mind it so much,” I say, and he glares at me. “What?” 

“I’m not into sharing you with others,” he growls, and my eyes go wide. “Whether I’ve got marks on you or not.” 

I bite my lower lip and duck my gaze, willing my face not to burst into flame with the possessiveness in his voice. Especially when I sit up and he sits on the sofa so that he can pull my head to rest against his thigh. Somehow the act makes me feel secure despite the crowd around us. “Hulk, buddy, do you think you can dial it down? Maybe sit or something?” 

The green monster tilts his head. “Tony is okay?” 

“Tony’s great. Tony’s better than great.” 

“Puny god not threat?” 

“Puny,” I mutter, and then wince as Tony’s grip tightens in my hair. I press my face to his thigh and squeeze his calf in silent apology. 

“Loki’s not a threat, no.” 

“But he’s…” 

“This is not open for discussion,” Tony says. “Period.” 

Silence descends. It’s Thor who speaks first; it surprises me when he says, “I owe you an apology, Man of Iron. For I cannot allow my brother to stay here with you.” 

I glance up and snarl at him, ready to push myself up and fight or run when Tony says, “If you touch him, I’ll consider it a reason to kill you, Thor.” 

I lift my head to look at him, this man I love so much, and blink at him in amazement. “You would do that?” 

He smiles at me, tender and warm and it yanks apart all the strings in my chest until I’m ready to break apart. “I’m not losing you again.” 

“I don’t want to be lost,” I say. Cautiously I move to sit beside him on the sofa, curling into him. He presses his mouth to my forehead. “Love you,” I murmur. 

“Love you too.” 

“How do we know this isn’t a trick?” Rogers asks. “Another way to beat the punishment you have coming, for breaking those magical bonds?” 

“It was not my intention to break them,” I say. Which, yes, is a lie… but it wasn’t technically me who broke them, so. “I had no intention of upsetting the status quo.” 

“Father made those bonds himself. No one should’ve been able to break them. How did you do this, Brother? Who did you find with such capabilities?” 

They all stare at me, Tony included. I shrug. “It just happened.” 

“When?” 

My head whips around when I hear Bruce’s voice, and… yes. Also naked. For courtesy’s sake, I conjure the man some pants. “Thank you, Loki. Now: when did you get your magic back?” 

“The night the photographer snapped our picture for the paper,” I say. I close my eyes and bury my face in Tony’s neck. I don’t say anything else, wait for them to panic and argue and accuse. 

But after a moment, when the silence lingers, I can’t help but open my eyes. They’re all staring at me, various stages of confusion and shock and… “What?” I demand. 

“That means you had your magic a few days before Clint and Natasha picked up Stark at the Met,” Rogers says. “In fact, you had your magic several days before that.” 

_“It was two weeks.”_

I glare at the ceiling. “Not helping, JARVIS.” 

“Wait a fucking minute. JARVIS knew you got your magic back?” Tony shouts, and jumps to his feet. “JARVIS!” 

_”I’m sorry, sir,”_ the AI says. _”But after taking all factors and variables into analysis, and talking to Loki, I determined it was in your best interest to remain silent on the matter.”_

Tony scowls at me. “You seduced my AI! You bewitched him!” 

“No, I didn’t,” I say. I lean into him, murmuring, “I begged him to keep my confidence. I promised him that I would not harm you and that my only scheme was to ensure that I would not be banished from your company.” 

He frowns. “JARVIS, never again. Never again will you keep something like this from me.” 

_”But sir, was this not in accordance with the study you’d been making of Loki’s…”_

“Shut up, JARVIS!” Tony roars. “Topic for another time!” 

It’s too late; the rest of the mortals may not be as sharp as I am, but they’re far from stupid. “What were you studying about Loki?” Bruce asks. “You know something, don’t you? That’s what those tests were late at night, when Loki first got here, isn’t it?” 

Tony stands and paces. “I didn’t have any proof,” he says. “And when I thought Loki lost his magic, I didn’t think about any additional side effects or consequences to the experiment, so…” 

“What tests?” 

He looks at me. “It’s not…” 

“What. Tests?” I bite out the question and feel my patience slipping away. “Tell me.” 

“You had performance issues with the spear.” 

I shake my head, not understanding, until I suddenly do. “I couldn’t enchant you, when I touched your arc reactor with the Chitauri scepter,” I say. 

“No. You couldn’t.” 

“You think your arc reactor protects you from his magic?” Bruce asks. “Tony, that’s a hell of a thing to take on faith!” 

“The only way Loki ‘beat’ me was raw strength,” Tony argues. “He threw me out a window, but couldn’t put me under the same mind control that he did with…” 

We turn to look at Barton as one; he’s pale and his hands tremble. “Clint, I’m sorry,” I say, the admission startled out of me by the pain on his face. “Truly, I am.” 

He doesn’t respond. Natasha grasps him by the arm, and her actions confirm what I’ve assumed all along; they’re lovers, and that’s why they protect each other so fiercely. “So you couldn’t manipulate Stark?” she asks, to deflect the conversation away from Barton. 

“No,” I reply. “Though I didn’t think to question why at the time.” 

“But Tony, you suspected something,” Bruce says. “That’s why you signed out the spear for R &D purposes.” 

“I didn’t know if it was the spear or Loki,” my lover grumbles. “Or both.” 

“So you thought you could, what? Control me?” 

Tony stops pacing, walks up to me, and straddles my thighs so he sits in my lap. “Do you think I wanted to sleep with you to control you? Or maybe because I thought your ‘angry at the whole world, fuck you’ attitude was hot…?”

My hands find their way to his hips without my consent. “So what is it, then?” 

“I think my science – the element in my arc reactor – is Earth’s equivalent to your Asgardian magic,” he says, bluntly. “And while I thought you were under Odin’s control, I didn’t have any way to test it. I didn’t want to push my luck, but that’s what happened, isn’t it? I claimed you, and he lost his ability to suppress your magic. The bracelets ‘broke’ when you acknowledged that you were mine.” 

“You said I could give myself to you.” 

“Remember what you promised me? You said that I got your trust and your heart. Scared the hell out of yourself with your own admission.” 

I nod, tip my face up and he kisses me. “I never withheld anything from you to hurt you,” he says. “I didn’t bring it up because I didn’t realize anything had changed with your magical skills.” 

“It changes nothing,” Thor says, stubbornly. “If we do not return to Asgard, Father will not be inclined to forgive the offense.” 

“There was no offense! I had a fight with Tony – verbally, not physically – and left! And I didn’t show up again for eight weeks. Wouldn’t that prove I had no intention of harming humans?” 

_”Even earlier today, he would not have spoken to Mr. Stark without prompting,”_ JARVIS adds, in my defense. 

I smile at the ceiling. “Thank you, JARVIS.” 

_”You’re welcome, sir.”_

“So _that’s_ why JARVIS was so quick to take your side,” Tony muses. “Because he knew you were mine, didn’t he?” 

It’s hard for me not to become aroused by his weight in my lap, but when he says that – that I’m still his, that he still wants me – it’s hard for me not to sag into him with relief. “I never could’ve hurt you,” I say, sincerely. “That’s why I left. You know that.” 

“I know. Now all we have to do is convince the All-Father of it, and the rest of the team.” 

I look at Bruce, who seems to be the least likely to crush me. And isn’t that ironic? “How do you feel about it?” I ask. 

He pauses for a moment, then says, “It’s hard to fathom, you being a neutral entity instead of an malicious one. But the ‘human’ you was an all right guy, and I think we’d have a much better chance of handling you if it came down to it, so… I’m okay. Besides, if anyone should know about needing second chances, it should be everyone in this room. Don’t you all agree?” 

“Brother, I’ve long been aware of your schemes and plans,” Thor says, before anyone can answer. He crosses his arms over his chest. “I would not allow the destruction of this world based upon another lie passing your lips.” 

“Maybe if there was a way we could combine your magic with my science?” Tony asks. He gets up, paces, waves his arms excitedly as he plans. “Would you willingly do that? Let me study it?” 

“Yes,” I say. “I would willingly do that.” 

“It’s a nice sentiment, Tony, but it can’t happen. He needs to go back to Asgard,” Rogers says. “We’re not safe with him here.” 

“I…” 

The argument goes on around me; I tune them out, watch my lover’s face as he becomes angrier and angrier. I could run, I realize. I could leave and never come back but it would kill me to be without him and know I’ve hurt him again. I could run and take Tony with me, but it would destroy us because he’d miss his lifestyle and his friends and the people he pretends not to care about. No matter how I leave him, it would destroy him. And if I run, I have no doubt they’ll use Tony in any way they need to in order to summon me back. “I’ll return to Asgard!” 

Conversations halt mid-stream. Tony whips his head around from where he’s arguing with Thor to glare at me. “Over my dead body!” he snaps. 

“If I don’t return, it might be,” I say, sighing. “I will not put you at risk, beloved. I will go with Thor, convince the All-Father that it was not my plan to cause harm when the bracelets failed.” 

“And what happens when he doesn’t believe you? Or when he refuses to let you return?” 

I close my eyes. “Then we will do as we have always done, you and I. We will survive, and consider alternative paths.” 

“I’m not letting you go to Asgard to be executed,” Tony snaps. He glares at Thor. “I meant what I said. I will kill you if you touch him.” 

“Stark…” 

“Fuck off, Cap.” 

They all look to start shouting again, so I raise my hands and yell, “Enough!” 

Tony gives me a wounded look which I ignore. “Please, enough,” I say. “Thor, where is the Tesseract? Retrieve it and we will return to Asgard.” 

Thor doesn’t move. “And I am to believe that you would not try to leave while I am gone?” 

I roll my eyes. “Fine! Then lead the way to the Tesseract and I will go with you!” 

“I hope you are not trying to deceive me again, Brother,” Thor says. “I will return with it shortly.” 

He spins on his heels and exits Tony’s rooms, leaving me with my lover and the other members of his team. “So you’re going back?” 

That’s the little archer, and I find I cannot tune him out. “Yes. To protect what I have come to love.” 

“You don’t know that anything would happen if you stayed, if you didn’t…”

“I would not risk Asgard declaring war on your Realm,” I reply. I move to Tony’s side and tangle his fingers in mine. “I would not have your death as one more ill-act at my hands. I will do all I can to come back to you.” 

He moves closer, wraps his arms around me. “I’m holding you to that,” he says. He reaches up to cup a hand around the back of my neck. “You tell your All-Father he has something important to me and I want it back.” 

I kiss him, willing him to understand why I must do this, why I must do whatever I can to keep him safe. Bruce interrupts our moment to say, “I didn’t expect to ever worry about you, Loki, but now…? Take care of yourself. I think me and the Other Guy were both just getting to like you.” 

“I did not expect to ever feel this way about mortals,” I admit. “That I would willingly make sacrifices for them. Mayhap my time here has not all been ill-spent, regarding things other than Tony?” 

“That’s not funny.” 

I press another kiss to Tony’s cheek. “It wasn’t meant to be. You are the best thing that ever happened to me, Tony Stark. You are the sorcerer who enchanted the Jotun Prince of Asgard, brought me to my knees with the strength of your convictions and the gentleness of your hand. I would not have it any other way.” 

I am not ashamed to say I cling to him until Thor returns, brilliant Tesseract in his grasp. He clears his throat, breaking our moment, and gestures to me to take the other side of the cube. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry,” he tells Tony, and Tony doesn’t answer. Tony simply stares at me until the portal between Realms opens and the room fades from my view. 


	9. Chapter 9

** Nine **

Heimdall meets us at the gate to the palace, his stance tense and ready for battle. “I rejoice in seeing you back with us safely,” he says, and though he does not address either of us by name I know he means the message only for Thor. 

I scoff at the words but do not retort; it will be hard enough containing my words when I am in the presence of the All-Father, hard enough to shape them into something he’ll find pleasing. Silently, I follow Thor into the heart of the palace, toward his parents’ personal chambers. “Father will want to speak to you,” he says, as though I do not already know this. “He will wish to see the heart of your plans.” 

But I have no plans except to return to Tony and Midgard. I do not dare try to explain this to Thor, for I fear he will no longer be swayed by my words. Whether they be truth or not. 

I trail him to the palace, past the courtyards and carved pillars and elegant beauty of the architecture. How it all pales in comparison now, to the beauty of a certain smiling face. “It’s good to have you home,” Thor says, interrupting our silent walk. When I gape at him, he says, “I have spoken to Heimdall several times since you’ve been away. He says you looked well on Midgard.” 

“Your Midgard was different than I expected.” 

I do not give him anything else to work with regarding my response; let him wonder what I mean, let him worry and fret and stew… 

The doors to the throne room open before us, Odin’s chosen guards flanking our steps and escorting us to him. I know they are not there for Thor’s benefit, but for my own. “Armed accompaniment?” 

“Behave, _lillebror_.” 

I cringe at the soft-spoken endearment. But I bite down on my response, as we’re surrounded by enough people now that I know I would be overheard. I follow Thor’s example when we reach the throne, sink to one knee and clasp my hand over my breast in salute to the All-Father. Thor’s voice, crisp and clear, says, “Father, we return at your request!” 

I do not speak, do not dare lift my face to the All-Father’s. I pull my magic closer to me as a shield, in case it’s needed. The All-Father holds up a hand to stem the rising murmur of Asgard’s citizens, those present in the throne room. “It is good to see your safe return.” 

I roll my eyes but refrain from speech. Sadly, it does not take long for the All-Father to focus his attentions on me. “I admit I did not expect to see you return of your own free will.” 

“I am here at your bequest, All-Father,” I say, dutifully. I do not sneer, but it’s a close thing. “I found it wiser to come without protest.” 

“You would have preferred staying elsewhere?” 

“Yes.” 

“And yet you broke the bonds restraining your magic,” he continues. “And forced your brother to return to Midgard to seek you out.” 

“I did not ask for any Asgardian to return to Midgard, and Midgard would not have come to harm by the release of my magic.” 

He slams his hand down on the arm of his throne, the metal of his gauntlet echoing around the room. “Will the truth ever fall from your lips?” he roars. “Do not assault my ears with such lies! You are not…” 

“ _I am not what?_ ” I shout back, coming to my feet and clenching my fists at my side. “I am not _Aesir_? I am not to be _trusted_ because I’m a _monster_? When I tried to prove to you that I was loyal to you, when I slew my blood father in your name, all you could say was ‘No, Loki’. I understand it now! I’m _not your son_! But nor am I the same monster I was before!” 

The court blurs as tears force their way from my eyes, and I sag into myself, collapsing onto the staircase. “I cannot do this with you any longer, All-Father,” I mumble. “Either disavow me and execute me, or let me leave this place that is no longer my home.” 

“This will always be your home.” 

But it is not my supposed-father who says it; “Lady Frigga,” I breathe, and incline my head in a bow. “It is…” 

“It is far too nice a day outside for such old arguments and wounds,” she says, approaching me. “Loki, you will walk with me through the gardens for a while.” 

It is not a request, nor would I deny her. “Yes, my Lady.” 

She touches her fingertips to my brow, stroking them down my forehead and over the bridge of my nose. “Am I no longer Mother to you, my son?” 

I struggle to my feet and step away from her gentle touch. “I am as my Lady commands me,” I reply. 

She gives me a strange half-smile and turns. “Come.” 

I glance at the All-Father but he does not protest my leave; oddly enough, neither does Thor. A tug on my arm propels me forward and I shorten my strides so that she and I can walk together. “You two dig at each other with deadly aim,” she says, once we’re clear of the throne room. “Each knowing how to hurt the other best.” 

I do not have the heart to argue with her, as she is correct in her assessment. “Why did you wish to walk with me?” 

“Because it has been too long since we have done so. I often miss your presence by my side, your voice questioning me and learning from me.” 

“That was a long time ago.” 

She smiles. “To a mother, it was no time at all.” 

I do not understand and it must show on my face, for she laughs at me. “Loki, in my eyes, you will always be my mischievous little magpie. No matter how much you grow or what choices you make, I still look at you and see the boy you were.” 

“How can that be?” I say, and her answering smile takes my breath away. “Why would you still care?” 

She takes my hand in hers and leads me to our tree, the spruce I’d climbed as a boy that had defeated me. We sit on a nearby bench and stare at it. “Because you are my son, and as you have made mistakes, I have made them, too.” 

“You…?” I had never heard either of my ‘parents’ claim responsibility for lying to me, never heard them admit to keeping me in the dark. “But…” 

One of her hands covers my mouth and I fall silent. “You felt betrayed by the people who should always have protected you,” she says. “And for that, I am sorry. I thought we were doing you a great service in hiding your heritage from you, but in the end it was our fault your heart broke. My darling boy, would you ever be able to forgive your Mother, for being such a fool?” 

I am helpless to do anything other than wrap my arms around her, and as we cling to each other I feel the wetness on my face fall to her shoulder. Long ago, her pain would have pleased me in my supposed vengeance; now, it shreds into me like my throwing knives and carves me from the inside out. “It is I who should be asking your forgiveness,” I say. “For hurting you, for plotting against Asgard and the All-Father.” 

“He is still your father.” 

“He is not,” I say, though I do not stop hugging her. “And he will be forced to treat me as the monster I am.” 

“You are _not_ a monster.” 

“A different kind of monster now, maybe, but a monster still.” 

“Is that what your Midgardian would call you?” 

I stop and blink at her. “What?” 

“Loki,” she sighs, shaking her head. “Do you not know that Heimdall could see you throughout the term of your stay on Midgard? I know of your time spent with the human called Stark. Would he consider you a monster?” 

“…perhaps not,” I admit. 

“And he overlooks things in your past because he loves you, yes? As you overlook things in his past for the same reason?” 

“You would not use him against me,” I say. “I would take any punishment, Mother, even my own death to keep him safe. Please.” 

“I am not trying to use him against you. I would request a straight answer from you as to your feelings for the mortal.” 

“His name is Tony,” I say. “Anthony Edward Stark.” 

“He’s very different, I gather.” 

My lips tilt up in a smile of their own accord. “Yes,” I agree. “He is.” 

“He has bewitched you?” 

“No. Though he claims not to be a hero, his heart is true.” 

“Hmm,” she says. I receive another half-smile. “And this good heart appeals to you?” 

I pause, consider whether to tell her the truth or not. “It is hard to explain,” I say. “I am not bewitched, though I gladly belong to him. I feel he makes me less the monster than I was before.” 

“I would wish thank this man, then. Tell me more of him?” 

Something goes cold inside. “My Lady Frigga,” I begin, but she raises a hand to stop me from speaking. “Mother, please…” 

“Not this time, my dear one,” she says, smiling. “You may lie and twist truths to your brother and your father, but you may not get out of this. I wish to know more of this mortal you love, and you _will_ tell me about him.” 

I don’t know what to say without looking like a love-sickened fool. “What would you wish to know of him?” 

She laughs. “Don’t tell me there’s nothing to say?” 

“He’s brilliant,” I admit. “And cavalier in his attitude, though it hides depths that others do not see.” 

“And…?” 

“And he throws away vast sums of riches to spoil those he cares about. He is smart, protective, charming. He never stops speaking! Oh, Mother, he talks far too much to be polite, and yet I do not tire of the sound of him or the words he speaks.” 

“Is he generous with you?” 

I scowl. “Far above anything I could want for, or need. He even bought…” 

“That’s not what I meant,” she interrupts. She coughs delicately, and then asks, “I am concerned that you have not been… ill-used?” 

Ill-used? The connotation takes me a moment, but when I realize what she’s asking, I flush and jump up from the bench. “ _Mother!_ I’m not discussing that with you!” 

“I’ve every right to be concerned for you,” she says, and points at the seat I’ve just vacated. “Sit down, Loki, and answer me.” 

I vacillate between obeying and disappearing; just as I consider the latter, she narrows her gaze and orders, “Sit.” 

I drop back to the bench like a rock, don’t meet her gaze. “I have not been ill-used,” I mumble, embarrassed. 

“He has not hurt you, nor broken your heart?” 

“Mother, he would have had every right to break me,” I say, rubbing my face with my hand. “I was his enemy, deposited in his lap by the All-Father as punishment. He could’ve made me crawl, but he didn’t. He treated me respectfully, took care of my basic needs, and spoiled me with attentions I did not earn through previous actions. I could not say he ill-used me; if anything, he was far kinder to me than I would’ve been to him. Whether we were in his personal chambers, or out of it.” 

She doesn’t answer and I raise my head. “What?” I ask, as she smiles. 

“Nothing, darling,” she replies. She pats my hand and rises from the seat. “Nothing at all. Thank you for sitting with me for this conversation. I would suggest you spend a day or two availing yourself of the library and your rooms while you’re here.” 

Wait, what? “I don’t understand…?” 

“That’s all right. This time you don’t have to understand. But I understand, Loki, and I promise you this: in the next day or two, I _will_ have a solution for you. Would you grant me the span of time? Would you stay here, refrain from your magic and mischief, and trust me?” 

It’s a terrible thing she asks me, for I haven’t any faith left to give. I pause, and think of my lover. I think of the words he spoke all those weeks ago, about not buying into my own reputation, of not letting the Asgardians win by falling into darkness again. “Yes,” I say. I duck my head. “At the end of that time, I would beg you to either put an end to my life, or to release me from this promise. I cannot keep this up any longer. Monster I may be, but I am either the enemy, or I am not. Ask the All-Father to choose one, please?” 

“I promise to see this through,” she replies. Which isn’t an answer at all, but the only one I receive. She rises, touches a hand to my shoulder, and leaves me there. 

I do not move for an indiscriminate length of time, unsure of where to go (where would I be welcome now?) or what to do. Unfortunately, the decision to stay comes at a high price; at once, I hear the voices of Thor and the Warriors Three. “Brother!” Thor shouts. “Have you concluded your discussion with Mother?” 

“I have,” I say, stiffly. “I was on my way to my chambers when I stopped here a moment.” 

“And a good thing you did,” Fandral says. He smiles. “For it must be nice for you, to walk so far without escort.” 

Thor elbows the Asgardian in the chest. “You will cease your teasing,” he says. “My _lillebror_ is here to make amends, not to be annoyed, my friend.” 

“You speak truth,” Fandral says, and gives Thor a slight bow. “Forgive me. I would not wish to aggravate Loki in the midst of his apologies. That would be unkind of me.” 

The sarcasm flies over Thor’s head, but not mine; I glare at him, a hot anger flushing my face. “You know nothing of what you speak.” 

“Indeed? Are you not here because you’ve used your enchantments, when specifically instructed not to?” 

Enchantments. Oh, yes, Fandral live to degrade my skills as something trivial! But as I open my mouth to reply, Volstagg says, “Leave it, Fandral. He may not have much longer to worry about it, if the All-Father grants him the execution he requested.” 

“ _You will both cease cutting my brother with such remarks!_ ” Thor snarls. “That is enough! Where does such cruelty come from in your hearts?” 

“It is anger for you!” Fandral replies, scowling. He jabs a finger in my direction. “For you, my friend, for every time the LieSmith breaks your heart or causes you pain! I can no longer stand by silently, to watch you give your honor and care to a _Jotun_. He could never deserve it.” 

I am in no way prepared to see Thor spin on his best friend and punch him in the face. Fandral’s head snaps backward, his lip splitting with the blow. “Thor!” Volstagg exclaims. “How could you do such a thing in defense of that…?” 

“You will watch what you say about my brother,” Thor retorts. “I would cease that comment before you earn my ire.” 

“My friends, the anger between us is in vain,” Hogun says, stepping between Thor and Volstagg. Fandral pushes himself to his feet and glares at me. “There is one cause for this trouble now, as there has always been one cause for trouble between us. We should go back to ignoring it as we have in the past, for the sake of us all.” 

“You never accepted Loki, even before we knew he was… adopted,” Thor says. He frowns, and finally meets my eyes. “Was it always this way?” 

I cock my head to one side. “Do you mean, ‘were your friends always terrible to me?’ Because the answer is yes.” 

“You were odd as a child,” Hogun replies. “You did not have interests similar to ours.” 

“Yes, and let’s make fun of Loki for being smaller than you, not as strong as you, more bookish than you!” I shout. “Let’s keep belittling him, so we can feel better about ourselves!” 

“You pranked us at every opportunity,” Volstagg comments. “Surely you earned much of your own troubles.” 

“I did, but not until I was older. How was I to prank you as a boy, when I had not the skills to keep up with you? Three year’s difference between Thor and myself, and the rest of you would never have chosen me as a friend without him pushing me into your sphere.” 

“You didn’t fit in with us.” 

“And yet you still took the time to fuck me,” I throw back at Fandral, who turns white as snow. “Do you deny it?” 

Thor makes a wounded sound, but Fandral dodges the punch aimed at him this time. “Thor, mercy!” he says. “It was a long time ago!” 

“But you do not deny it!” Thor bellows. “You do not deny laying hands on my brother?!?!?!?” 

“It was consensual!” 

“Yes, of course it was,” I say. “And maybe I am not the only liar here. Perhaps you’d like to know, _Brother_ , what it was that brought me to your best friend’s bed? In exchange for my innocence, he was to smooth my way in this world, speak more favorably of me to others and… befriend me, for lack of better explanation. Instead it became a joke to him, something insidious to needle me with when no one else could hear.” 

“Loki…” 

“Poor Fandral,” I coo. “Poor, poor Fandral. How does it feel, to have soiled your pride by fucking a Frost Giant? Do you feel shame, to have lain with a _monster_?” 

“You disgust me,” Fandral sneers. “To think, I debased myself by _touching you_ , you creature…” 

The punch this time comes from Hogun, shocking me. “You will be silent,” he says, as Fandral mewls over his twice-broken nose. “You… how could you do such a thing, Fandral?” 

“What does it matter,” Fandral says, disgustedly. “I’m glad I did not keep to my end of the promise; I would’ve befriended a Frost Giant, an aberration, and the entire kingdom would’ve known about it.” 

“Does that make me a monster in your eyes, then?” Thor says, shaking his head. “Do I insult your honor by claiming Loki as my brother?” 

“Your good heart makes you immune to such insults, Thor. But you would be better off to separate yourself from him, for your own good,” Volstagg replies. “Not because he is a Frost Giant, but because his heart is closed to you. And it is a blackened heart besides.” 

“He’s right, Thor,” I say. “It would be in your best interest to cut me, especially if Odin All-Father decides to spare my life. But do not worry - I will not stay here and remind Asgard of its embarrassments and open secrets. And I will not stay to be reminded of what I am with every mumbled insult and darkened glare. Though I should be used to it now, I suppose.” 

Thor looks at me, flickers of pain passing over his face. “Was it always as such for you, that I never saw it?” 

It hurts me like a punch to the stomach, the sadness and truth in his question. For the first time, the man who claims to be my brother _sees me_. “Yes,” I say, quietly. “I was different, lesser to those around us, even before my heritage came to light.” 

He steps forward, wraps his arms around me, and hugs me. I stiffen, every fiber of my being poised with the intention to flee. “Get off of me, you fool!” I chide. “That was not supposed to be encouragement for you to molest me!” 

“I am sorry,” he says, tightening his grasp on my skin. “For I, above all, should’ve been there to protect you from such things.” 

“But you weren’t, and I do not need you to champion me now,” I say, untangling myself from him. “Go with your friends. You were born to rule, Thor. And in this kingdom, I was born to remain unseen. Let it be so – for two days’ hence, I will either be dead at the hand of your Father, or I will be leaving, likely never to return.” 

He reaches out a hand for me, but I evade it, turn my back to him, and stalk away. 

“Loki!” 

I do not turn, so he cannot see the anguish on my face. For years I have tried to extract myself from my brother’s shadow. How ironic: I have finally succeeded in breaking away from him, yet I find myself longing for him by my side instead of against me. It makes me wonder if, in two days’ time, the All-Father will decide to rid his family of my troublesome nature, once and for all. 


	10. Chapter 10

** Ten **

I spend the rest of the day and the next day in the library, staring out the windows and hiding from the rest of Asgard. My mother… _Lady Frigga_ does not try to find me, nor does Thor. And it comes as no surprise that the All-Father also ignores my presence in his realm. 

It shocks me to my core when I find Hogun sitting next to me, the morning of the second day. “What do you want?” I snap. 

“I wished to apologize to you,” he says. 

I twist to look at him and almost slide off my chair. “What?” 

He frowns. “To apologize. On behalf of my past actions, and most certainly on behalf of Fandral’s.” 

“It is not up to you to apologize for him.” 

“And yet I am ashamed by his misdeeds,” he says. “For he confirmed your admission as truth, and his actions were cowardly in both word and deed.” 

“I’m not sure it would be cause for the disillusion of your friendship,” I say. “For he has always been loyal to you, Volstagg, Sif and to Thor. My feelings did not matter.” 

He stays silent; after a moment, he tilts his head to the side and says, “We can only be judged upon our own merits, and for all of Fandral’s strengths and honors, I still disapprove of his behavior at times. Whether you were friend or not, I would not have seen your first time handled as such. No one should be maligned by a shield-brother.” 

I am embarrassed by his words. I have no desire to discuss my first lessons in intercourse with Hogun. “Consider yourself forgiven; you may leave me now.” 

Hogun doesn’t smile at my remark, sees it as the lie it most certainly is. “Is it that you prefer your own company, or does my remark offend you?” 

“I am not offended. I simply do not wish to divulge intimate details of my life to one who does not claim any association with me, except as the friend of my… of Thor.” 

He nods. “I would make one more statement to you, before I go, if you would hear me out?” 

I sigh. “Would this mean you’d leave me in peace?” 

“I do not feel you’ve ever been at peace,” he replies. “But I will take my leave of you, if you still so desire.” 

“Then say what you must say.” 

He arches an eyebrow. “For all your half-truths and mischief, I still see the holes in you, Loki LieSmith. You may remove the bonds of family from your heart, but those who consider you family will not abandon you as you fear. Thor, for all of the hurtful words you spew at him, is not willing to leave you to your fate, and neither is your mother. You may wish to reconsider that before you cut them again with your sharp tongue.” 

“I do not…!” 

He holds up a hand. “I do not wish to hear your excuses. I only wish to point out to you that you do not see the magic in front of you, Loki. The kind of loyalty no amount of spell-casting can purchase.” 

I know my mouth hangs open at his words and I close it quickly, before anything sentimental can fall from it. He gives me a polite incline of his head and says; “Think about it.” as he leaves me. 

I stare at his back as he goes, unable to believe the depth of feeling he stirs in me. It is not so much that I ever wished to ruin Thor, as I wanted to be _seen_ ; to be acknowledged independently from him, as someone instead of something. But to think Thor is loyal to me? Lady Frigga, maybe, but Thor…? 

But, I wonder, how many times was it Thor who’d be defending me to the All-Father? How many times did I try to remove myself from his grasp, when all he’d do was hold tighter to me so I wasn’t alone? How many nights was I frightened of the world, and one smile from the brother who loved me set my worlds to right? 

I am not a child any longer, but after knowing Tony, knowing what it is to _love_ someone that much… would acknowledging the familial bonds between myself and Thor be so much an issue? 

I stare at the page of the book in front of me, my thoughts a tangle, my mind wandering away from the reality of my situation. I do not know how long I stay that way, but the suns have changed position by the time I hear a voice say, “Loki?” 

I glance up and find myself face-to-face with the individual I’ve been thinking about. “Did I summon you here by my thoughts?” 

Thor frowns. “I do not believe so,” he says, as though my comment was serious. “Unless you have become so skilled as to control the minds of others?” 

“Yes, Thor, that must be it,” I say, sighing. “Why have you come here?” 

“Mother has asked that you attend the feast tonight. I have been sent to stay with you today and ensure you arrive this evening in your best leathers.” 

“I am not to be trusted, then, even to feed myself?” 

He scowls. “Bro… Loki. It is not a matter of whether or not Mother trusts you, only that you arrive to an event where you’ve made your displeasure known in the past.” 

“I don’t know why I would complain about a meal where everyone is intoxicated and making fools of themselves.” 

He nudges my arm with his hand. “Even I can detect the sarcasm in your statement this time.” 

I swallow hard. “Is this…” 

When I falter, he asks, “Is this what?” 

I squeeze my eyes closed. “Is this to be the last meal I have?” 

There is nothing that prepares me for the way he yanks me from the chair and crushes me to his chest. “I would die a thousand times before I let Father put an end to your life,” he says, and the urgency in his voice shakes my heart. “I would never – could never – allow it. Loki, you have asked me to cut you, but I cannot, I could not ever remove you from my heart, and if that makes me a fool, then…” 

“Then it makes us both fools,” I say. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and cling to him, unable to tamp down the wave of emotion his words bring. “For I find though I wish I could hate you, I cannot. I am so tired, Thor. I push and shove you away, and while I may find myself so angry with you, I cannot carve you out of my history, nor can I carve you out of my future.” 

“ _Lillebror_ ,” he breathes into my hair. “My Brother, my Loki! How is it that you say this to me now?” 

“I feared I might not have another chance, Brother,” I return. “And if that were to be true, then I would not have you think I hate you anymore.” 

We are too close for what is polite, but I do not care, not when he noses along my skin to brush our faces together. “It would not matter to me what blood flowed through your veins,” he promises. “That I would not trade you for any other little brother in all the Nine Realms.” 

“In truth, I would not trade you either. But this does not give you the right to return to past behaviors, Brother. I would not find myself in your shadow again, unable to have you listen to me for your pigheadedness.” 

“I will endeavor to listen to you more,” he says. “And if I do not, I believe you will either turn me into a toad or sic the Man of Iron on me, will you not?” 

Something painful twists in my chest at the mention of my lover. It must show on my face, because he grins at me and says, “Have faith in our Mother. It will not be in vain.” 

“Do you know something?” I demand, shoving at him until he releases me. “What is it? What do you know?” 

Thor chuckles. “I am not at liberty to betray Mother’s trust. But, we have several hours until the night’s feast! What would you say to leaving this place of books and finding ourselves swimming in the river?” 

“Thor…” 

He turns those damnable sad eyes upon me, asks, “Please?” 

I sigh and follow him from the room. “I am not so unaware of the secrets that pass across your face!” I complain. “I know you are up to some mischief, now.” 

“And I have learned from the best,” he teases, tugging a lock of my hair. “For no matter what tortures you apply, I will not break my silence.” 

“Hmmph,” I say, but I cannot keep a serious face as he wraps his hand around my wrist and tugs me along behind him. “Thor!” 

“No time to waste!” 

Our strides lengthen; soon, I find myself running to catch up to him, chasing him along the corridors of the palace and then through the stone walls into the wilds beyond. It does not take us long to reach the Ífingr or the shallow riverbanks where we played as boys. I watch as Thor strips off his tunic and trousers and flings himself carelessly into the water. “Come on!” he calls. 

I grin at him, peel out of my own clothes so I can join him in the comforting waters. “You realize this was the only form of exercise where I could best you?” I say, as I paddle to his side. 

He spits a stream of water in my face, laughing at me as I yelp in disgust. “You are a foul beast!” I shout. 

“And you are still my whiny little brother,” he says. He smiles so hard his cheeks must hurt. “I never thought to be so glad to say that in my life.” 

“Thor,” I protest, but the protest is for naught. “I cannot believe you still wish to claim me, with everything I’ve done.” 

He splashes me. “It is the past, is it not? I would be pleased to judge you as the man you are now, and not the child you were before. Mother says that if I am to be King, then I must start using my ears and my mouth in the ratio they were assigned; listen twice as hard, and speak half as much.” 

I gape at him, astonished. “Mother told you that? And you _listened_?” 

“Hush,” he says, and splashes me again. “I do not claim to understand you, Loki, but after seeing who you are when you are in the presence of Tony Stark… I believe you opened my eyes. I saw who you would be if you did not have to claim the title of Prince of Asgard. It was… enlightening.” 

“Oh?” 

“Yes,” he continues, and grins at me. “It is good to see you when you are smiling, not hiding behind masks, and enjoying all of the benefits of being in love. And I say love, for even without seeing the bites upon your chest, I would have to be blind not to see how you and he adore each other.” 

I look down and… oh. How embarrassing! I’m still littered with marks from Tony’s teeth! “I hate you!” I say, and cross my arms over my chest in a pathetic attempt to hide the… the love bites. 

“Surely you do not, though you flush so prettily… AH!” 

I may have promised Lady Frigga to behave, but he goes too far. While my Jotun biology is not harmed by extreme cold, Thor’s biology makes him susceptible. So maybe… just maybe I create a few icy currents around him. “LOKI!” 

I stagger out of the river to escape his retaliation, but I do not have a chance; he catches me easily, tackling me to the ground and tickling me. “You are a terrible brat!” he says, but the huge smile eases his insults. “That was _cold_!” 

I laugh, both because of the unintentional Midgardian slang and for the fact that he’s shivering next to me in the grass. “Thor, mercy!” I plead, laughing, and he eases his assault. “Truly, though, you deserved such retribution for calling me out on my marks of passion.” 

He flops next to me, rubbing his hands over his arms, and gives me a wicked grin. “’Tis only fair, for all the times you condemned me for the same marks.” 

“Mayhap if I took as many lovers as you did, but…” 

“Is that the difference?” he asks, squinting at me in the sunlight. “Only fair to tease about when it’s not one’s true love?” 

I blush, cursing him under my breath. “True love,” I scoff, but in my mind I love the idea. “Hmmph.” 

“Do not be that way. You know ‘tis true, you love Tony Stark with every bit of your soul. Otherwise you’d not have agreed to return to Father to face his judgment.” 

“I wouldn’t have,” I confess. “I’d have left you all there and been your enemy once more.” 

“But you did not.” 

“No.” 

He stretches out flat and I mirror his pose; the cool earth and soft grass feel good upon my bare skin. I yawn and tip my head to one side so I can look at him. “I am honored by his marks upon my skin.” 

“I do not doubt it. I was teasing you before, but take this to heart: there can never be shame in loving a person who is honorable. I have known Tony Stark as a friend, and a warrior, and though I do not understand him, I would trust him with my life. And in turn, he has chosen well by loving you in return.” 

“You think so?” 

“Truly. Only one as brilliant as he could hope to match wits with you and survive!” 

I punch his arm and only succeed in hurting my hand. “Perhaps I _should_ turn you into a toad,” I complain. “At least that way, you will be silent.” 

“I would haunt you with my croaking for the rest of my days,” he replies. 

I giggle, rise to my feet so I can pull on my trousers. “I am not falling asleep in my skin only,” I say, when he rolls his eyes at me. “Nor would it be appropriate for you to…” 

“You nag worse than Mother,” he says, without heat. “I enjoy the feeling of the sun on my skin; Norns above know you could use a little coloration to your pale flesh.” 

“Fine. But if the skin of your prick burns and chaps, do not come to me seeking a poultice for relief!” 

He grumbles in complaint but tugs on his trousers as well. “Spoilsport.” 

He flops back to the grass and his lethargy surprises me. “How is it that you can spend an entire afternoon with me and not have to swing Mjöllnir at something? I’ve never seen you so still.” 

“It’s nothing.” 

I narrow my gaze at him. “Thor, you’re a terrible liar, what is it truthfully?” 

“Mother told me that she’d flay the skin from me if I made you late for dinner or led you into trouble,” he confesses, and grins at me. “And after the shouting match she had with Father…” 

“She had a shouting match with the All-Father?” 

He nods, eyes widening. “I wasn’t supposed to say anything, but yes. While you were in the library with your nose buried in a book, Mother and Father were shaking down the walls with their yelling.” 

“And what was the result?” I ask, my face a mask of perfect innocence and curiosity. “Did Mother win?” 

“Oh, no you don’t,” he says, and pokes me in the ribs. “I may fall for most of your tricks, but I have been warned to be extra-careful with what I divulge this afternoon! I won’t say another word on the subject.” 

I frown. “For all the times you have to learn how to resist my ways… it had to be now?” 

“I’m glad to know you’re so invested in the outcome. It shows you care.” 

My frown turns into a scowl and he laughs at me, pillows his hands behind his head, and closes his eyes. “Sleep for a while, _lillebror_. I will make sure we do not tarry too long, and I know you well enough to know you have not sought sleep since you returned.” 

I consider him for a moment, unsure, but when he repeats, “Sleep” with such fondness in his voice, I obey him. My eyes close and I curl closer to him in an unconscious bid for safety. I do not know how long I doze, but it feels like only the span of a breath before he’s shaking my shoulder. “Loki?” 

I yawn, rub my eyes. “Hmm?” 

“Wake up, Brother, it’s time we return to the palace to dress for dinner.” 

“Already?” 

He smiles at me. “You’ve been asleep more than an hour. Did the rest do you well?” 

I nod, still too relaxed for speech. He stands, helps me to my feet, and we pull ourselves back into our clothes. “Come. We can bathe and dress for dinner in my chambers; I had your attire brought there.” 

“Presumptuous,” I say, but I smile at him. “Thank you for allowing me to sleep.” 

He nods, replies, “Thank you for trusting me to stand guard over you.” 

We walk back to the palace in relative silence; when we reach his chambers, servants come to aide us in baths and proper attire. For some reason, I find myself desperately missing the ability to slide into one of Tony’s tee shirts and a pair of jeans. 

“What ails you?” 

I glance at Thor over the heads of one of the servant girls. “Why do you ask?” 

“You are not wearing your masks, Brother. You looked saddened by some thought.” 

“I am simply thinking about dinner, and watching you drink more than your share of mead,” I say, and arch an eyebrow at him. Pointedly, I add, “But we shall speak no more of it as I do not wish to insult you with an audience.” 

For once he seems to catch my meaning; that I do not wish to discuss anything with him while in company. We compose ourselves accordingly. I dress in my tunic and trousers, leather jerkin, chest plate, cape, and gauntlets. My horned helmet sits upon my head and I pace in Thor’s sitting room, waiting for him to join me. 

“You look much the fine nobleman,” he says, when he joins me. He is also dressed in his finest attire. “Come, Brother, lest we be later than we are already.” 

The torches cast light down the corridors as we walk toward the dining hall; I do not know what to expect, especially as Thor does nothing but grin at me the entire time. “Cease that infernal smiling!” I snap, nerves making me sharp around the edges. 

“I cannot, for I know something you don’t know.” 

“Are you truly so much a child?” 

“Yes,” he says, and … he _smirks_ at me, the bastard. “But you have my word that you will like this particular dinner, for once.” 

“Thor!” 

But I’ve no more time to protest; the herald opens the door for us, announces into the hall, “I present the Princes of Asgard!” 

The dining hall falls silent and I feel the weight of their eyes upon me. I swallow hard, force my feet to take me forward where I know I am not wanted. “Courage, Brother,” Thor murmurs, and we step into the room side-by-side. “I am with you, and I am not the only one.” 

I glance at him and he grins again, tilts his head toward the high table where the All-Father and Lady Frigga sit. The table is full of the high lords and ladies of Asgard as usual, but… 

I slam to a stop, trip over my own feet, causing my armor to jangle loudly in the still-too-quiet room. I stare at the table, try to make sense of what I’m seeing; yes, the All-Father, with Frigga on his left, and on her left sits a man in a dark-charcoal suit of Midgardian styling and an emerald-green tie. And to his left sits another _mortal_ , and a woman with hair as flame, and… 

My mouth opens and closes, but I can produce no sounds. I can hear a rush of noise in the room and it surrounds me, chokes me, cuts off my air but I cannot break my gaze from those at the table in front of me… 

The All-Father stands, raps Gungnir on the floor to settle the assembly. “Come forward, my sons.” 

I don’t move until Thor grasps my arm, tugs me into motion. “This is a dream,” I say, but he shakes his head at me. “This cannot be truth…?” 

“Surprise,” he says, and smiles. 


	11. Chapter 11 and Epilogue

** Eleven **

Thor releases his hand from my arm as we approach the main table, both of us dropping to one knee and clasping a hand to our chest in standard greeting. I yank my helmet off and tuck it under my arm so I can see more clearly. My body runs on auto-pilot, for as soon as I am kneeling and bowing my head, I am glancing at the table to see if my mind plays tricks upon me. I cannot tell; for it looks as though my lover sits next to Lady Frigga, but he is on Midgard and it cannot be more than… 

“Tonight we welcome new guests to the Hall!” the All-Father says, inspiring a roar of cheers and welcome. When he holds up a hand, the room falls back to calm. “Come, my sons, join us, while I introduce our guests.” 

Thor gives me a shove to get me moving, and I follow him to our usual places: my seat close to Thor’s, at the All-Father’s right side. We sit, and I feel the weight of Odin’s gaze upon me. “Tonight,” he says, “we are joined by some of the most formidable warriors of Midgard. These honorable men and women come to us to strengthen the relations between Midgard and Asgard.” 

He continues, “Long have we felt the loss of the Bifrost; however, the Midgardians believe they are able to recreate our lost transport with their science. May I present to you Engineer Anthony Stark, Doctor Bruce Banner, and Doctor Jane Foster.” 

Thor gives his lady love a wave and she blushes at him. The All-Father tilts his head in acknowledgement of the motion and continues, “They are given the support of an organization called S.H.I.E.L.D. and we greet Agent Natasha Romanov, Agent Clint Barton, and Steven Rogers to Asgard.” 

I watch in awe as the Avengers stand as one, bow to the All-Father. Five of them sit; it leaves my lover still on his feet, and he speaks for his teammates. “We are honored to be able to assist Asgard in this manner, All-Father,” he says, without any trace of sarcasm or ill-will. “We are glad that the Princes of Asgard have found homes in our Realm, and we thank you for the generous invitation to make second homes for ourselves here. While reconstructing the Bifrost, we will need to travel back and forth between our two worlds as welcome guests, and we offer you the same welcome in return.” 

I swing my head to stare at Thor when his chair scrapes against the floor. “We thank you, Man of Iron,” he says, grinning. “I would offer my assistance in the repair of the Bifrost, but I fear both your science and magic elude me. I would think, however, that my brother would be able to help you in this process?” 

“I would be honored to have Loki’s assistance… assuming he would be willing to live on Midgard with us indefinitely?” Tony asks. 

“What?” I feel like my brain implodes with his statement. “What are you…?” 

“I’m asking you to stay with me,” Tony says, and my heart beats rabbit-fast in my chest. “For an extended period of time, while we repair the Rainbow Bridge.” 

I can’t breathe. Oh, oh, I can’t pull the oxygen into my lungs fast enough. “What about after?” I croak. 

Tony chuckles. “I pretty much want you to stay for as long as you want,” he says. He walks around the table so that he’s standing next to my chair. Loud enough for all to hear, he says, “You see, this feast has two purposes. First, the All-Father was kind enough to speak with us regarding the reparation of the Bifrost. In return, I was able to speak to him and your mother about a second point.” 

“What’s that?” 

He and I lock eyes, and in that moment I can see every ounce of love he feels for me. “On Midgard, it’s customary to ask for the parents’ blessing before you propose to your beloved.” 

I would slide to the floor without Thor grabbing for me, holding me upright. “Propose?” I mouth. 

He kneels on the floor next to me, in front of all of the assembly of Asgard, and takes my left hand in his. He pulls a blue box from his jacket pocket, opens it one-handed, and shows it to me. 

It’s a ring; but unlike all of the flashy, showy glamour that is Tony Stark, this is a plain silvery band, half an inch thick, with engraving upon the outside. “Tony,” I breathe. “What…” 

“I want you in every way, Loki. This ring is my promise to you, that I would spend the rest of my…” 

I don’t let him finish. I grab him by the lapels of his suit and kiss him for all it’s worth. Thor’s the first to bellow next to me, raucously cheering us on. The other Avengers – and Jane Foster – also burst into applause. I would be embarrassed if I weren’t so busy trying to swallow Tony whole. When we finally part to breathe, he’s grinning. “So I take that as a yes?” 

“Yes, yes, you ridiculous man,” I say, but I’m laughing with joy and I can’t stop. “How could I say no to that?” 

Gungnir’s clang rings out again in the Hall. I grab Tony’s hand and face the All-Father. He and Lady Frigga are… they are smiling? “All-Father?” I ask. 

“We bless your union to Anthony Stark,” Odin says. The slight curl of his mouth is the only clue I get as to his feelings. “And as such, we are pleased to offer him – and your chosen friends – gifts of Iðunn, so that they may continue as our allies until Ragnarök falls.” 

“Iðunn?” I ask, hesitantly. “Have you partaken of them already, Tony?” 

“Your mother has supplied us with several stunningly delicious apples, and yes,” he says. “We did. Earlier.” 

“Then… you are as close to immortal as I?” 

He nods. I close my eyes, press my face into the curve of his neck, and sigh. “Then I can say with all honestly that I will be happy until Ragnarök falls.” 

He digs his fingers into my hairline and I am suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to cry. I drop to the floor in front of him, so we are face-to-face, and press as closely to him as I can. “I love you,” I say. 

“I love you, too. I gotta say, your momma’s one sharp cookie.” 

I glance over his shoulder to find Lady Frigga smiling at me. “I promised you,” she says, loudly enough so I can hear her. “It was always my intention to see you happy.” 

I grin, and grin some more. I pull back from Tony and say, “Let’s do it now.” 

“What?” he says, eyes going round. “Do what?” 

“Tonight. Now. Let us be hand-fasted here, tonight, right now? Please. I don’t… I’m sure there are legalities on Midgard, but I want to be yours, I want to _belong to you_ , right now.” 

He laughs. “Are you serious? Because if you’re serious, I’m totally on board with this plan.” 

I jump to my feet, laughing, happier than I have ever been in my life. I say loudly enough for all assembled to hear: “Papa, would you hand-bind us now? I would not wait another day to be one with this man, for I love him more than I can say.” 

I watch Lady Frigga’s hand fly to her mouth; tears spring to her eyes, and I don’t understand why. I watch as Natasha gives me a soft smile; feel Thor’s hand clamp down on my shoulder and he spins me to pull me into a bear hug. “Loki,” he chokes, and holds me tighter. “Brother…” 

It is all I can do to breathe; I say, “I do not understand…?” 

Two arms wrap around Thor and myself. “My sons,” the All-Father says. “I did not think I would live to see the day when I regained the love of _both_ of my sons…” 

Oh. _Papa_ , I’d cried out. For when I stopped thinking about how angry I should be at the All-Father, I slipped up and used a term I had not used since before I found out I was… 

“I thought you not to want my love anymore.” 

“I am your Father,” Odin says. “And I have always loved you, even when you would not have loved yourself. You often have been a source of my worst misery, but I would not give you up, my son. I can only be content knowing you have found one who will make you happy in return for all the love I know you have to offer.” 

“I, for one, am glad to gain another brother,” Thor pipes in, and reaches to grab for Tony. “Tony Stark! Welcome to our family! But now we should sit, and feast, and celebrate your upcoming nuptials!” 

“I wasn’t joking,” I say. “I would marry him tonight if you would perform the ceremony.” 

“Loki,” my Mother chides. “There are preparations to make, for a proper ceremony, and other guests to invite, and…” 

“But the people who really matter to me are all here, now,” I say, reaching for Tony’s hand and at the same time leaning closer to Thor. “There are others who would come for the ability to gossip about it later, and it would mean much to me to _not_ have them shadow something so meaningful to me. Mother, if I am to return to Midgard indefinitely, would it not be better for me to be married before I leave?” 

This is how I find myself standing next to Tony minutes later, in the center of the room, a red silken cord being wound around our wrists. The All-Father is proclaiming the ceremony, and Thor stands next to me with one hand on my arm in support. I can hardly believe the words coming from my mouth, of honor and commitment and safety and _forever_ … 

The rest of the feast is a blur. It takes us hours to eat and drink and be congratulated by our friends and my family. By the time we stagger back to my chambers, I’ve had more mead than I should’ve and can’t stop giggling. “Love you so much, Mr. Loki Stark,” Tony says, dropping a kiss on my forehead. “Even though you are completely wasted at the moment.” 

“Am not.” 

He laughs, deposits me onto my bed and tugs at my boots. “Okay, you’re stone-cold sober. Now, how do I get you out of all this leather?” 

I concentrate as hard as I can and banish my clothing with a thought. Tony makes a pleased sound and I grin at him. “Better?” 

“Much.” He drapes me across the bed on my belly and I’m boneless, completely malleable in his grip. He arranges me so that I’ve got my face resting on pillows, my legs spread slightly, and a pillow under my stomach so my hips are propped up. “God, you’re beautiful,” he says. 

“Mmm,” I reply. I feel so loose, so incredible, that I don’t wish to ruin it by speaking. Except I have to mention, “Oil in the cabinet…” 

He chuckles, shifts his body off the bed and walks to the cabinet in the corner of the room. There he finds some of my books, dried herbs and small vials of oil. “Any of these harmful?” he asks. 

“No, but they smell differently.” 

He uncorks on of the vials, sniffs it, and wrinkles his nose, making me giggle. I watch him test different scents until he finds one that pleases him. His face lights up and he all but runs back to the bed. “This is perfect.” 

He pours the oil over my back and it shocks me. “What’re you doing?” I gasp. 

“Massage,” he says. “Unless you have some problem with me touching you all over?” 

“I thought we were going to fuck,” I slur, and pout at him. “Why aren’t we…TONY!” 

He’s slapped me on my upturned ass, shocking me. I lift a hand to rub at the offended buttock, but he grips my wrist in his and presses my arm back to the mattress. “Don’t,” he all but growls. “It’s our wedding night, and you’re drunk. Which is funny, since I’m normally the one being lectured for drinking too much. I may have to send Pepper flowers in apology again, if I was anywhere near half as bad as you are now…” 

“Tony,” I whine, trying to get him back on track. “Sex?” 

He shakes his head at me. “I’m going to give you a backrub and wait for you to sober up a little. This is our first time for married-people sex. I want to remember it as better than a drunken fuck.” 

I frown. “You’re not drunk?” 

“Obviously not,” he says, grinning. “You were drinking enough for both of us. Normally that’s my job, but it scared the hell out of you, didn’t it?” 

I close my eyes and rub my fingers against my temples. “This is too serious for how my head hurts.” 

He lets out a grunt and starts rubbing my shoulders. Some of the tension I’ve been carrying leaks out of my spine. “Exactly why I want to wait until you’ve slept off the mead before we fool around.” 

“But…!” 

He spanks me on the ass again, cutting me off, and I squeak at him. “No buts,” he says. “Please, Lo-lo. Let me touch you?” 

I sigh, let all of the tension fall away from me. “I’m yours to do with whatever you please.” 

“Mm, I like the sound of that.” His fingers trace over the bumps of my spine, down to the crease of my ass, oil-covered fingers stroking and petting. I doze, shifting on the bed to get closer to him, safe and secure with him next to me. 

I’m not ashamed that I fall asleep, not really; for when I wake up, I find myself slick inside, and Tony spooned around me with an arm tossed over my body. I open my eyes slowly, enough to see that the night has turned into day, and a glorious Asgardian sunrise waits for us. 

The other thing that waits – and this, for me alone – is my general hunger for my beloved. I can feel the heat of his morning arousal slide along the cleft of my ass and I tilt my hips backward to rub against him. He groans but does not wake; and in my own desire, I reach back to grasp his prick so I can line it up with my hole. 

He makes a noise, nips at the back of my neck, but still he sleeps! I would laugh if I was not concerned to wake him. Carefully I spread my thighs, nudge the silken head inside me and wait as he grunts. He settles after a moment, but he must think this is a dream, because he moves his hips forward to sink further inside me. 

Sometimes, being a trickster pays off. “Tony, fuck me,” I murmur, and he moves, fingers digging into my hips as he thrusts. “Yes, like that, just like that…” 

He grip tightens and he thrusts harder, groans my name on an exhale and buries his face against my neck. “Loki.” 

“Yes, more,” I pant, rocking in tandem with him. “Please, fuck, more!” 

He freezes and I curse softly under my breath. I turn my head and give him my best guileless look. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?” 

He arches an eyebrow. “I thought I was dreaming about being inside you.” 

“It’s no dream. But mayhap we could talk… after?” 

“Are you trying to trick me with morning sex so I’m not mad at you for drinking yourself into a stupor at our wedding?” 

I bat my eyelashes. “Of course, not, beloved husband,” I purr, and lean toward him so I can place a kiss upon the corner of his mouth. “But, for curiosity’s sake, if I were… would it be working?” 

“Incorrigible,” he mutters, and grins. “Completely incorrigible. I’m so damn glad I married you last night.” 

“Me too,” I say, wiggling against him. “Forgive me for drinking so much? And if you can’t, well… then put me in my place?” 

He groans, slaps weakly at my hip. “You already know your place. Your place is right beside me.” 

“Or, for now, underneath you?” I ask, unable to refrain from the blatant innuendo. I squirm more, pulling away enough so that only the head of his prick remains inside me. “What say you?” 

He rolls our bodies so that I’m on my belly beneath him, my cock trapped between my stomach and the mattress. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous for me like this,” he growls, pushing at my thighs so he can more easily slide into me. “All hungry for it, aren’t you?” 

“Always,” I say. “Always want you, please…” 

He curses, rocks his hips into me, manhandling me to my knees so he can stroke my prick in time with his thrusts. I’m already close to the edge, adrenaline-fueled from somewhat molesting his sleeping form, and it doesn’t take much for him to push me into my release. I cry out as I come when he bites the back of my neck; I shout louder when he fucks me straight through my orgasm in search of his own. 

The collapsed cuddling afterwards is phenomenal. 

“I think I bit you too hard,” he admits, tracing too-gentle fingers across the back of my neck. I shudder as he touches a raw spot, and he adds, “You’re bleeding a little. I’m sorry, Loki, I didn’t mean to…” 

“Don’t,” I say. “It will heal. But for now, it reminds me that I belong to you. I… I like it. My hair will hide it from the view of others.” 

“I think the ring does the claiming,” he teases. “I don’t need to see wounds to know you’re mine.” 

I roll over so that I can drape myself across his chest, and he wraps his arms around me so we’re pressed together. “I don’t care,” I say. “I like it. I like all of your marks on me.” 

He cups my chin, draws my face up so he can kiss me. “Sneak attack sex is awesome.” 

“Glad you approve,” I reply. I giggle, unable to help it. “Shall I do it again sometime?” 

“Lo-lo, you get to do it as much as you want for the rest of our long, long, LONG lives.” 

I glance up at him. “Does this mean you’re glad you partook of the apples my Mother gave you?” 

He nods. “Your mom’s kind of scary and amazing all at the same time. I see where you get it from.” 

“She’s…” 

“She raised you,” he says, cutting me off. “And you’re a lot like her, whether you’re blood-related or not.” 

“I know. I’ve always felt most close to her.” 

“She told me she’d find new and interesting ways to kill me if I hurt you. I might’ve hugged her when she said it.” 

“What?” I blink. “Why would you…” 

“Because you’ve been hurt your whole life. And I’m glad that someone loves you enough to threaten me on your behalf. Thor’s kinda protective of you, but not like that.” 

I can’t say anything because it feels like I’ve been smacked with a dead fish. Frigga threatened Tony on my behalf? I just… can’t wrap my mind around it. I know she cares about me, but to do such a thing to ensure my future happiness? 

“She loves you, Loki. She wants you to be happy. And if you’re happy with an asshole Midgardian Avenger, she’s not going to argue.” 

I blush. “You’re a terrible superhero, you know. Falling for a villain.” 

He grins. “Are you kidding? You’re a kitten, not a villain, remember?” 

Before I can admonish him for calling me a kitten _again_ , a loud banging erupts on my outer-chamber doors. “Are you awake, Brother?” 

I groan and bury my face in my pillow. “Go away, Thor!” 

“Nay, I cannot! Mother insists you both rouse and break your fast with your family. I am to enter and physically dress you if necessary.” 

Tony snickers at my distress. “We could simply vanish,” I pout. 

“I think we’ve come too far for that,” he says. He pokes me in the ribs. “Besides, think about it – if we don’t show up, Frigga and Natasha will probably become best friends and by the time they catch us, we’re as good as dead.” 

My eyes go round at the idea of the Black Widow and Frigga teaming up together. I leap from the bed and throw open the door, startling Thor. “We’re coming!” 

“Loki, showers?” 

I close my eyes and mumble the appropriate spells beneath my breath, cleaning us both and summoning clothing for my husband and I. “Come on, come on,” I say, dragging Tony out the door. At Thor’s confused look, I say, “Tony suggested that Natasha and Mother might be making fast friendship.” 

Thor’s eyes also widen to cartoonish proportion. “That could prove to be most terrifying!” 

The three of us hurry down the hallways toward our parent’s private dining hall. By the time we fling the doors open and enter, the rest of the assembly stares at us. “Good morning,” the All-Father says, gesturing to our seats. 

“Good morning, All-Father,” Thor and I chime. Tony gives him a wave. “I apologize for the delay,” Thor adds. 

“Somehow I thought we’d have more difficulty getting the newlyweds to join us.” 

I grin at the term ‘newlyweds’, reach for Tony’s hand on instinct and am pleased when he covers my fingers with his. Odin nods at us and we take our seats; I end up sandwiched between Thor and Tony. It doesn’t take long for the teasing to start – but good natured instead of harmful this time. Mostly from Clint, and him asking us how we slept. 

“It was nice,” I say, and Tony nudges my arm with his. “Well, it was.” 

“It was better than nice, Lo-lo,” Tony says. He leans over and presses a kiss to my forehead, and I grin again; I can’t stop smiling this morning. 

“Yes, it was.” 

Clint rolls his eyes and pulls a face; he mumbles something about how disgusting the two of us are, which makes me start giggling. We speak freely at the meal, both of us eating more than our share of sweets and tea. Only after I’m full do I ask my husband, “Dare I ask how you all came to be in Asgard?” 

“The black dude with glowing eyes came to Stark Tower,” Tony says. “Hemorrhoid? Hagrid? Heimlich?” 

“Heimdall,” I correct, though I cannot stifle my laughter. “Tony, you’re terrible.” 

“Takes one,” he says. “Anyway, he appears in the tower, and tells us that the Lady Frigga has requested our presence in the halls of Asgard. So we get here, I end up getting the third degree about my intentions toward her youngest son, and voila! We’re married.” 

“But… you wanted this, right?” 

“Hmm?” 

“To marry me.” 

He pokes me in the ribs. “Are you crazy? No one was gonna make me marry you if I didn’t want you.” 

“Oh,” I say, and smile. “Good.” 

“You didn’t really think I would come to Asgard without the intentions of taking you back with me in some capacity, right? I wasn’t going to let anyone hurt you again.” 

“I know,” I reply. “I’m safe with you.” 

“And don’t you forget it.” 

As if I could. 

**Epilogue**

“Behold, for I am Morgoth the Magnificent!” the voice booms across the rooftop, as another bolt of blue energy flashes toward the street. “I will destroy your city! I will enslave the populace! I – _URK_!” 

I tap the comm on the side of my head and glare at the crumpled body at my feet. “Situation handled,” I say. “Someone want to let S.H.I.E.L.D. know they can pick up this idiot? And soon, because he’s ruining my honeymoon.” 

“You guys _cannot_ claim to be on honeymoon four months later,” a disgruntled voice sighs. 

“I most certainly can, Captain,” I reply. “Since it keeps getting _interrupted_.” 

“Aww, baby, but you know how much you like saving the world. And also? You still look badass in that stupid hat.” 

“Helmet,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Husband of mine…” 

“Enough chatter,” Coulson says, interrupting our byplay. “Mischief One, hold position, S.H.I.E.L.D. agents will be to your location in less than five minutes.” 

“That is still the most ridiculous title I have ever held.” 

“Not everybody can be Iron Man,” my spouse teases, as he lands next to me. “It’s better than Kitten, after all.” 

“It’s like you want me to throw you out another window.” 

He laughs, lifts his visor and leans closer to kiss my shoulder. “You’d miss me too much. So how did you whack this particular psycho?” 

I simply deflected his magic back at him. He’s not very powerful, but the backlash was enough to render him unconscious.” 

“You’re still kind of scary.” 

“Yes.” 

And maybe I sound a bit smug, because he laughs again. “And still kind of mine?” 

I kiss him. “You even have to ask?” 

“Just wanted to hear you say it.” 

The door to the roof bursts open and we’re surrounded by agents, all of whom pounce on Morgoth. “It’s like these villains still don’t realize we’ve got a demi-god and Iron Man on our side,” one of them says, and grins at me. “Nice going, sirs.” 

“Yes, yes, fine, off you go,” I order, waving him away. Tony snorts, elbows me gently in the ribs. “What?” 

“It’s funny that you still get flustered by the hero worship of the baby agents,” he says. 

“They should worship me, I’m a _god_.” 

“Please,” he scoffs. “They should worship you for being amazing.” 

“I already get enough of that from you. I don’t need the baby agents to make me feel loved.” 

Tony yanks me to him and kisses me. And kisses me again. One of the agents asks, “Sirs, are you coming with us or…?” 

“We’ll be right behind you,” I say, and they finally – FINALLY – leave us in peace. 

“Right behind them, huh?” 

“Tony, I may have married you, and Norns know I love you, and yes – I’ve made a home here, but you’ve forgotten something.” 

He purses his lips in concentration. “What?” 

“God of Mischief!” I sing-song, and reach for him. 

We don’t make it off the roof for an hour. 


End file.
